


Machination

by exfatalist



Series: House of M [1]
Category: Marvel (House of M), Young Avengers
Genre: Alien Culture, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Aliens, Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Forced Feminization, Gen, Genderbending, House of M - Freeform, M/M, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-27
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-02 14:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exfatalist/pseuds/exfatalist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite living in the twenty-first century, the House of Magnus was still willing to forge political alliances the old-fashioned way. The <i>very</i> old-fashioned way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Modern Love Just Can't Survive

**Author's Note:**

> This was not something I originally included during my first run with this fic on LiveJournal, but I feel the need to include some warnings due to the broader audience AO3 seems to have. So:
> 
> **Trigger Warning(s)** : This fic includes the idea and execution of forced gender/sex reassignment in an alien context. It also touches a little bit on the emotional spectrum of child abuse. I _think_ these are the only things that constitute a trigger warning, but please let me know if anything else in the story pings anyone's radar.

Prince William adjusted the collar of his uncomfortably fitting formal attire -- a somewhat militaristic uniform fashioned after his grandfather's and worn primarily for diplomatic functions -- as he waited just beyond the entrance to the palace on the receiving platform for the arrival of his grandfather's ship. It was far too early in the morning to be awake, much less dressed as he was, but the chill in the wind kept him alert.

"What do you think she's like?" Thomas wondered aloud, sounding as tired as William wasn't allowing himself to be.

"Green," William answered concisely.

The terse edge to his tone shut Thomas up without protest and the twins waited for the arrival of their grandfather's ship in silence from then on.

_She_ was Princess Anella, granddaughter of Skrull Emperor Dorrek VII, and William's intended bride. Despite living in the twenty-first century, with technological leaps and bounds the likes of which only science fiction authors had before managed to envision, the House of Magnus was still willing to forge political alliances the old-fashioned way. The _very_ old-fashioned way. As the successful peace treaty between the Skrull and Kree had been sealed with the marriage of his daughter, Anelle, to the Kree hero Mar-Vell over two decades ago, Dorrek VII no doubt felt secure in this practice and recommended it upon the completion of the new treaty negotiations with Earth. While they weren't actively at war with the Skrulls, as the Kree had been, King Magnus nevertheless consented to the marriage as a means of solidifying their new alliance.

So it fell to William, being a whole three minutes older than his twin brother, as the only one of the House of an appropriate age for Anella and without previous romantic attachment, to be committed to the arrangement. He was informed yesterday that it would be expected of him, in the first subspace transmission received since his grandfather left Earth to negotiate the new treaty. His mother must have already consented to the marriage, being a part of his grandfather's off-world delegation, or -- William suspected -- it would not have been settled upon at all.

It wasn't the first time in his life Will felt he was only playing the part given to him on his family's stage, reciting the appropriate lines at the correct time without any emotional attachment beyond duty, but it hadn't occurred to him yet that he was allowed to be angered by the newest situation in which he found himself.

Eventually, silence gave way to the roaring of engines and the landing platform was taken up by the large ship used for off-world travel, the wind kicked up by the ship's arrival sweeping both his and Thomas' hair wildly askew. Soon enough, a ramp was lowered and the imposing form of his grandfather emerged from the ship, followed soon after by his mother.

"William," his grandfather greeted upon approach. "Thomas."

"Hello, grandfather," Thomas answered with all the politeness he usually never bothered to muster, while William only nodded his greeting in a stoic fashion. Having not decided _what_ to say in the face of his situation, he hardly trusted himself to open his mouth at all.

Maintaining his stoic front in the sudden, warm embrace of his mother was another issue entirely and he suspected she was attempting to break his resolve before he made the decision to be _that_ upset over the arrangement. After hugging Thomas in much the same way, Wanda pulled away and her arm around her father's. "Come along, William," she said in the doting voice she always had for her children, "we have many things to discuss."

Helpfully, Thomas nudged William forward when he feet seemed to root themselves firmly into place. Managing not to trip over himself at the unexpected push, William resolved to somehow get through the day and quietly commit fratricide later that evening.

 

\--

 

As it turned out, there was very little that required _discussion_ , making the conversation a mere formality.

In accordance with the wishes of Dorrek VII, the new treaty with the Skrulls would be sealed with William's marriage to Anella, but -- in a compromise insisted upon by King Magnus -- they were to be permitted an engagement period to familiarize themselves with each other. Somehow, to William, that did not sound like the _best_ compromise his grandfather could have agreed to.

Without being asked his opinion on the terms of the treaty, William was told he would be disembarking within two days to return to the Skrull throneworld and retrieve his bride-to-be. Together, they would select an appropriate date for the wedding and he was to discreetly acquired the services of a wedding coordinator to begin preparations. As overwhelming as the idea was of being very soon married, the necessity of traveling to another _planet_ in another part of the _galaxy_ was too baffling to think that hard on. Thus lacking the ability to protest, William agreed to the terms set before him and promptly excused himself from the meeting.

It was much later in the day when Thomas finally found him, sitting alone -- and still in his full dress uniform -- in the private library the two of them had used for their studies as children.

"So," Thomas said as he settled himself into the squishy armchair across from where William was putting up a terrible pretense at reading Tolstoy, "I've been thinking."

"Hmm?"

"Tell mom you're going to Hammer Bay for the weekend."

Will looked up from the impossibly thick hardback. "Why?"

Thomas offered his twin a sly smile. "Because I want to go to New York."

"Hammer Bay isn't New York, Tom," Will deadpanned.

"No," Thomas explained with slow care, as if William needed to be walked through his logic, "but Hammer Bay is still in the country and it won't look like you're trying to escape your Skrullwife if you stay in the country."

William frowned at the nickname. As much as he was growing to _hate_ the idea the more he actually slowed down to think about being thrust into it, he didn't think Anella deserved any ire. Like him, she was just an innocent pawn being moved about for purposes not actually her own. "Don't call her that," he finally decided, sounding a bit more annoyed with his brother than he intended.

"She's a Skrull," Tom explained, trying to laugh his brother's annoyance off. "And she's going to be your wife. It's fitting." With his justification clearly lacking and not remotely on the verge of convincing William of his joke's appropriateness, Thomas dropped all attempts and insisted: "Just tell mom, okay?"

Lying to their mother and wandering off to New York for the weekend, especially after a morning like this, didn't sit well with William. His frown deepened as he thought about it (or, more specifically, thought about the consequences involved in getting _caught_ ). "I don't know, Tom."

"You need to get away from this place before you have a mental breakdown!" Thomas exclaimed. He gave up all pretense of sitting and having a polite conversation with his twin, bolting up from the chair to do something with his nervous energy. "Look, I'm going to be in New York anyway. Just come with me? _Please_."

"Tom," William said warningly. "I _really_ don't know about this."

After a few nervous paces, Thomas turned and presented William with a cocky grin. "Bachelor party?"

When his brother merely looked confused by the declaration, Thomas went on, "Okay, look. We _both_ know you're not going to tell anyone the truth about how you really feel. Just let me give you a bachelor party, at least. I want you to have a good time before all this ... happens." He said it in a tone that articulated exactly how William felt: defeated and helpless. There was very little either of them could do about the situations they were continually thrust into.

The idea of wandering off to another country with Thomas for the pure and simple purpose of _partying_ in celebration (or perhaps mourning) of his nuptials seemed like an unbelievably bad idea to William. Not only was it the sort of thing he just didn't do, but there existed the potential of being seen, thus exposing themselves and their family to ridicule if anything made it to the press. "No way -- "

"I'll take you to a gay bar!"

The exclamation was given so quickly, both of them missed most of it and had to take a moment to piece together what Thomas had just said. While William looked surprised (and uncomfortably embarrassed), Thomas seemed struck with the realization of his offer, but then resolute in his decision to keep such a promise. For confirmation, he repeated more slowly, "I'll take you to a gay bar."

Though not still _that_ surprised, William nevertheless needed further clarification. "What?"

"You. Me. Bachelor party. Gay bar." Tom paused, looking a little saddened to be laying the facts out in front of them like this. His brother was gay and refused to tell anyone, even if it meant facing a politically orchestrated marriage to a woman. "We can pretend you're not about to embark on a life of monogamous heterosexuality."

Quiet for several moments, William made a passing attempt to finish the paragraph he'd been staring at for ten solid minutes before Thomas interrupted his solitude. Eventually, however, he closed the book and set it aside in favor of rubbing his forehead. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Thomas wondered, quiet but still demanding. "I'm offering to be your gay bar wingman, here, bro. You need to give me a definite answer."

Feeling like the conversation had gone to a serious place it needed to be steered away from, William looked up and put on one of his better fake smiles. " _Maybe_. And only if you promise not to talk about my Skrullwife."

"I promise," Thomas answered with a small smile of his own.

 

\--

 

As Thomas predicted, their mother had no problem with William taking a weekend excursion to Hammer Bay, even without security escort, and made the excuse for him that he just needed time to think about his future now. So, it was a very short trip from the palace to his family's usual hotel in the city. After checking into his penthouse suite and placing a 'do not disturb' request on the door, Will teleported several timezones away with his luggage and arrived in the penthouse suite of The James in New York.

"You're late," Thomas announced from the bathroom, less at the noise of William teleporting (there was very little) and more at the feeling of his brother's arrival. "You missed dinner."

William placed his luggage in the closet before heading to lean into the impressive en suite, prepared to find his brother working on perfectly sculpting his coif. What he found instead was Thomas still wrapped in a towel from the waist down, mucking in a tray of strongly smelling white paste, which he was applying to his hair with an applicator brush. " ... what are you doing?"

"Bleaching."

"Your hair."

"Yeah. What do you think?"

"I think I'm going to call for room service."

"I already did," Thomas announced proudly. "It should be here in a few minutes. Go watch television or something."

Backpedaling out of the bathroom to leave his brother to the bizarre task, William settled onto the edge of the bed and grabbed the remote for the television, turning on something for background noise until his food arrived. By the time the uninteresting show faded into a news program (prompting William to turn to an actual news channel for a broader report), a tray -- containing a burger and fries, along with two beers -- arrived by way of room service.

Anticipating his brother's want, William took one beer into the bathroom, where Thomas was struggling with a hand-held mirror and the wall mounted one to watch himself paste the hair at the back of his head with bleach. He left without comment, settling in comfortably on the bed with his own beer and dinner, watching the national news while he ate.

_"Violence erupted in Los Angeles today in wake of a report from the World Health Organization stating that the human birthrate has fallen to an all-time low this year. Homo sapien protesters congregated outside fertilization clinics in the greater Los Angeles area, protesting the clinics' supposed preferential treatment toward Homo superior parents. What started as a peaceful protest against Homo sapien stem cell research escalated into rioting the likes of which Los Angeles has not seen since the 1992 -- "_

Unceremoniously, the television switched to something the flavor of MTV and the volume sprang up past the casual comfort level. William glared first down at the bedside table, where the remote had formerly been, and then up at his twin brother, who looked positively ridiculous with his head covered in the white paste from the bleaching kit. It looked like Thomas had given up on the brush and just globbed it over his entire head in an effort to bleach every strand of hair.

"I was watching that."

"It's _depressing_! Who cares about that stuff?" Thomas demanded, setting the remote on the bathroom counter, far out of his brother's reach. "As long as they're not rioting _here_ and getting in the way of our partying, it doesn't matter."

William rolled his eyes. "Your hair looks ridiculous," he finally said, his comeback weak and unrelated to the conversation. Thomas wasn't very politically minded and William had long since learned not to bother.

"If by 'ridiculous' you mean _awesome_ , then yeah, it does," Tom's voice called, echo-y and distorted, from the bathroom.

While finishing his dinner, Will zoned out to the reality show now on, unable to look away from what turned out to be a very compelling train wreck. He was working through the last of his fries when the show ended and the sound of running water in the bathroom heralded his brother rinsing the bleach from his hair. Soon enough, the sound of water was replaced by that of a hair dryer and the all too familiar noises of Thomas primping with hair gel and other such styling products.

When Tom eventually emerged from the bathroom, William's curiosity got the better of him and he sat up to get a good look at his twin's hair. What had been jet black, like his own, was suddenly a very pale blond -- almost _white_ \-- which prompted William to suppose that, with the emergence of Thomas' speedster powers, he was striving to be a little _too_ much like their uncle.

"Don't say it," Thomas immediately protested.

"Say what?"

"I _don't_ look like Uncle Pete."

"I wasn't going to make that leap at all, Tom," William lied, smirking unrepentantly, "but since you brought it up, maybe you were already thinking it. Tell me, do you feel overshadowed, as a speedster in this family, by our uncle?"

Thomas pulled a face. "If I _wanted_ to look like Uncle Pete, I'd slick my hair back and be weirdly overprotective of my poor, defenseless twin. How _dare_ they marry him off to some Skrull princess! He's _so_ innocent! He's never even _dated_ a girl before!" Thomas protested in a fashion more outraged than woeful, clearly trying for his very best impersonation of Pietro.

Though summoning the television remote from wherever Tom had left it was such a simple display that it was hardly an argument against being called defenseless, Will did so nevertheless. The volume sank back down to a comfortable level and William returned the channel back to that of the news, where the story of the Los Angeles riots had long since given way to another round of hourly stories.

"Sorry," Thomas apologized, when he realized his brother was paying more attention to the news than him, "I forgot I wasn't supposed to mention _that_."

"It's fine," William lied, a sullen tone creeping into his voice. "Just don't do it again."

In an effort to cheer his twin up, Thomas grinned mischievously and moved over to the closet to retrieve two garment bags. He held out one to his brother. "Come on, Will," Tom offered in a sing-song voice, jiggling the hanger invitingly, like a kid trying to entice a cute animal with a treat, "I was in London last week. You know you want to walk into the club wearing Huntsman. We can _totally_ upstage these Manhattan guys in their off-the-rack Armani."

"Why do I get the feeling we're not putting on Savile Row _just_ to go to a gay bar?" he wondered, raising both eyebrows at his brother.

"Well ... "

" _Tom_."

Thomas went from looking innocent, to uncomfortable, to _sly_ in point-two seconds. "I figured we could pregame the gay bar. There's a club not far from here. Great atmosphere, great drinks, great -- "

"Kate Bishop," Will accused.

" -- she _is_ great!"

"You're trying to impress her," William protested. "She's the richest homo sapien heiress left on the east coast and she has a boyfriend, but you're still trying to impress her. It's not going to work, but I admire your perseverance."

Standing, William took the garment bag held out for him and draped it carefully across the foot of his bed, dragging down the zipper to get a good look at the suit Thomas had made for him. Thankfully, they were still the same size, despite Thomas' claims on being taller (he wasn't, really). Inside the bag was a very elegant charcoal-on-black pinstripe suit, which Tom had already paired with a crimson shirt and a surprisingly understated tie.

"Okay. _I'm_ impressed," Will admitted after a moment. "Have you been reading GQ? Did you hire a fashion consultant?"

"Shut up," his twin urged, somehow still looking pleased. "Get dressed. Do _something_ with your hair, it looks like you slept on it. We're going to be late, but not in a fashionable way."

 

\--

 

The _thump_ of the music hit him square in the chest the moment Will ascended the final step into the VIP lounge. The club below was crowded, with throngs of hopeful twenty-somethings lined up around the block outside, and the lounge on the second floor was no different. Somehow, without as many tables cluttering up the place and an opaque floor made of thickly swirled glass bricks leaving the scene below partially visible, it seemed even _more_ crowded. Kate must have been throwing a party.

Within minutes, it became obvious to William why _else_ his brother wanted to pregame their outing, as Tom was besieged by several giggling women, each more eager to see him than the last. William was introduced to them all in turn, enduring whatever flirty _twin_ jokes they decided to throw out there, and was actually _happy_ with the arrangement when Thomas had them seated in a semi-circular booth and had a round of drinks ordered.

It was only after two increasingly delicious cocktails, the garnish of which he was still occupied with, that William caught a glimpse of the party's hostess at the bar while Thomas had been dragged to the dance floor by a pair of his admirers. Kate Bishop _was_ great, he could give his brother that much. She walked with the air of someone who owned half the world (the _best_ half) and was still looking for a pretty enough case to put it into, somehow wrapping style in a graceful package without tying it all up with _swagger_. Will liked her a lot. A good deal more than he suspected she liked his brother.

And all the more when she turned away from the bar and headed for his table, one of the bartenders falling all over himself to follow in her stiletto-ed footsteps with a bottle of chilled champagne and several glasses.

"Hi, Will," she greeted, only helping herself to the table once the champagne had been set down and the bartender had cleared much of the clutter left by Thomas and his lady friends.

"Hello, Kate," William answered. He couldn't help smiling, as the entire situation struck him as _planned_. She'd known from the beginning when they arrived and had been conspicuously absent for her own, no doubt wildly entertaining, purposes. Thomas would come back, with a vapid girl on each arm, to find the true object of his affection seated at his table.

"So I hear congratulations are in order," Kate said while the champagne was being poured.

Even over the music, William heard the exaggerated exhale that accompanied his disappointment. "I wish he hadn't told you."

"Oh, honey," she said sympathetically and reached her glass over to his to clink them together in a forced toast, "I'm the _best_ person to tell. I don't need the money from selling anything to the tabloids and I don't have a political agenda." Kate paused for a sip of champagne, urging William by proxy to take a drink from his glass, too. "Besides, I don't think Tommy knew what to do. He was so distraught when he called me!"

The idea of his brother -- _Tommy_? -- calling Kate Bishop in the midst of being distressed was sort of, well, _strange_. Thomas usually ranted and went for a run to Alaska when he was particularly _pissed off_ about something, which left calling Kate at the bottom of his Methods for Dealing With Stress strategy list.

"He called you?" Will asked after he choked down his champagne.

"Yesterday morning. It was about three in the morning for me, so I was just getting in." And, clearly, she wasn't at all bothered by that fact. Will was stuck trying to figure out if it was because it wasn't a booty call or if it was because Thomas was _expressing feelings_. "He told me everything," Kate went on, her hand settling on his in a comforting manner. "I hope you don't mind."

Feeling suddenly absurdly exposed, though at least not to a perfect stranger, William just laughed. "I think you had me figured out that time we went shopping for _shoes_ , Kate, but the rest ... really should have been kept private."

"I know. I told him the exact same thing, but his mouth gets in front of his brain and he just -- "

" -- says things," Will finished. "Yeah."

Kate smiled sweetly across the table at him and gave his hand a little pat. "So, I told him to bring you to New York this weekend and let me introduce you to a few of my friends. They'll be meeting us at the bar later and I'm _sure_ you'll like them."

_Oh_. The realization that his brother had conspired with Kate to _set him up_ hit William like a ton of bricks, while Kate went on to describe her mysterious friends with all the adjectives a guy like him would hypothetically want in a one-night, pre-marriage stand: tall, dark, handsome, muscular, well-dressed, manicured, articulate, and -- with emphasis -- _very discreet_.

"...which," Kate said with a laugh, "makes this sound a little seedier than it is, but believe me when I say I've known these guys through college. They're wonderful, Will, I promise."

William cleared his throat after another, much larger, drink of champagne. "Now I'm nervous."

Kate only laughed, as if his admission was silly at best, and took it upon herself to top off both their glasses and fill the third, as if she had some precognitive ability and knew that at any moment Thomas would show up. He did, remarkably enough, and without his escort of admiring ladies. (Which lead Will to suspect he'd been stopped short in his tracks upon seeing Kate and made a convenient excuse to get rid of the two girls.)

"Kate," Tom greeted when he approached the table.

"Hi, Tommy," she answered with a sly little smile cast in Will's direction. "I was just filling your brother in on our plans for tonight. Won't you join us?"

It was amusing for William to watch the expression on his brother's face go from mortified to pleased in a matter of seconds as he realized what Kate had told him while watching her slide over in the booth to make room for him to sit beside her. Suddenly, he looked like his birthday had been rolled up into every national holiday and his mountain of combined gifts was topped with _cake_. Kate Bishop was a terrible woman and William kind of loved that about her.

Thomas sat and gulped down his glass of champagne in a move William had long since labeled 'stifling with alcohol.' Seeing his usually cool twin on the verge of sweating bullets was steadily making Will's night even better.

"Let's finish our champagne," Kate went on conversationally, as if entirely oblivious to the fact that Tom was turning into a stammering teenager next to her, "and the cheesecake platter I ordered us, then we can head out."

"You won't be missed here?" William wondered, not even _touching_ the decadence of the cheesecake she mentioned yet.

"At my own party?" she laughed. "Hardly. As long as I keep the bar open, no one will notice I'm gone. I already let Eli know I was having a girl's night out after ten."

Though Tom was visibly chagrined to be included in this 'girl's night out,' he managed not to say anything and just finished off his glass of champagne, oblivious to his brother's amusement.

"Great," Will said. "Sounds like a -- "

Downstairs, a resonant _boom_ resounded through the club, shaking walls and sending up shrieks of alarm through the crowds on both floors. Glass shattered in the distance and the DJ in the main club stopped spinning with an abrupt drag of a needle across vinyl, highlighting the frightened shouts of patrons below in sharp relief.

"What's going on?" William wondered, even as Thomas got to his feet with an alertness several glasses of alcohol shouldn't have allowed for.

A fire warning cut Kate's response short, setting off a blaring alarm and kicking on the automatic fire suppression system. As it rained down, the club began accumulating water and one of the main breakers was tripped, throwing nearly everything into pitch black but for a few emergency lights. What was rapidly spreading panic turned into absolute _chaos_ as everyone began stampeding for the nearest exit in confusion and distress. Downstairs, the sound of distinct gunfire -- not bullets, but tranq rounds -- broke through the cacophony of screams.

"It's the NHR!" Kate shouted over the noise, tucking her feet up into the booth to stand on her former seat and step up onto the table, wantonly kicking aside glasses and bottles to get a better footing. She grabbed Thomas' collar and jerked him closer to the table before he was swallowed up by the pushing crowd. "We have to go!"

With the first shout of 'NHR,' several patrons ignited into a full-on display of their homo superior powers, just to get the hell _out_ quicker. Between different flashes of energy from various sources, there was just enough light to see that the New Human Resistance was steadily picking its way through the crowd downstairs and beating a path up into the VIP lounge.

"Will!" Kate shouted, even as she reached down to jerk him out of the way of a wildly thrown energy blast. "They're after Eli! Can you find him?"

Eli Bradley, to the best of Will's limited knowledge, was widely believed to be the biggest dealer of mutant growth hormone in the state of New York, which didn't make him any friends with homo superiors in power or with the homo sapiens who wanted to preserve what was left of their species. As far as Will was concerned, though, Eli was Kate's boyfriend and didn't deserve to be dragged off by _terrorists_. In a blink, his eyes flashed bright blue and he dropped into the trance-like state associated with his locating ability, trusting in both Kate and Thomas to keep him from being carried off by the scattering masses.

Thomas was keeping an eye on the progress of the militant faction heading upstairs, one hand unconsciously grasping at Kate's arm in a protective fashion. "Will!" he urged at the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairwell. "Hurry!"

"Downstairs!" Will gasped when he snapped out of it, climbing up into his seat and toward the back of the booth. "We can go through the staff door!" He saw it in his head, following the path of least resistance from their location to where Eli was standing between five terrorists and a fallen girl with a tranq dart in her neck.

The urgency in William's voice was all Kate and Thomas needed to know the situation was _bad_ and about to get much worse. They both scrambled over the back of the booth and into the neighboring one to follow him. By the time their feet hit the water accumulating on the floor, a large group of masked NHR members had burst into the lounge and popped off a few shots into the crowd wantonly, using the 'shoot 'em all and sort 'em out later' method of tranq and retrieval. They clearly weren't _just_ after Eli.

With the crowd rapidly thinning, either due to use of the fire escape or encounter with excessive force, Will was able to lead the way to the staff stairwell, between the upstairs and downstairs bars, and haul the door open. The stairwell was empty and Thomas shot out ahead of them, grateful for open space in which to unleash his full potential.

"Tommy!"

Kate's shout was unheeded and she hurried after him, only drawing up short at the downstairs door when several suppressed gunshots heralded the sound of a body hitting the floor like a sack of potatoes.

Will's heart twisted with a sick wrench as he _felt_ the pricks of numbness his twin had succumbed to and he looked to Kate for reassurance. Unlike Thomas, William had no military training with the Red Guard and in spite of said training, his brother had just been taken down by a group of terrorists. He would be lying if he said he wasn't scared.

"Shield me," Kate demanded, giving Will only moments to react and form a protective blue aura of energy around her before she burst through the door and dove behind the bar. William followed, using only a small wall of the same energy to protect himself as he ducked to follow Kate. She had already grabbed for the nearest thing to a weapon she could find: a small tray of kitchen knives. "Draw their attention."

Something about the rough bark of her voice when she gave orders, like they both knew what the hell they were doing and were capable of this sort of thing, made William want to sit up and listen. He forgot his fear and his lack of training almost immediately. All that mattered at the moment was getting to his feet and giving Kate the window she needed.

William popped over the bar, shielding himself fully with his energy aura, and drew their attention with the crack of a lightning bolt. While he went for a more passive approach -- scaring the hell out of them, rather than frying them to a crisp -- Kate hauled off and threw three of her knives, lodging one in the side of a modified combat rifle and the other two in the accommodating flesh of a pair of terrorists.

They could both see from their new vantage point that Eli was on the floor, muscles bulging with an obvious overdose of MGH, with half a dozen tranq darts in his chest. Clearly, Kate wasn't about to pull any punches.

"Fuck, Kate!" Will exclaimed when they ducked back down, alarmed and impressed by her accuracy.

"They'll be fine," she snapped as she readied several more knives, "if they get to the ER soon."

On the other side of the bar, amid the screams of now injured terrorists, a radio cracked to life and a rasping voice ordered immediate evacuation.

Will didn't need Kate to tell him that it was time to go again. He just moved down the bar from his previous location and popped up again, this time not shying away from where he aimed his bolt of lightning. Kate moved her location, as well, but only landed two more knives when she popped up before the Resistance cell activated their evacuation protocol and teleported out.

All their injured and however many of the targeted sapiens they tagged were also teleported, leaving several bystanders-- like Thomas -- on the floor as collateral damage. Eli was gone, along with the girl he was protecting.

Kate swore like a sailor on shore leave and slammed one of her remaining knives into the bar. "Let's go before the cops get here," she muttered, stepping out from behind the bar to haul Thomas off of the rapidly flooding floor.

William hurried over to help shoulder his brother's weight. "What does the NHR want with Eli?"

"He deals," Kate answered succinctly and without any emotional commitment on the subject. "They're sapien nutjobs."

"What about all the other people? That girl they took." With Thomas' arm draped over his shoulders, William reached with his free hand to grasp Kate's wrist and teleported the three of them back to The James without delay.

Without missing a beat, as if teleportation was an every day thing for a New York socialite, Kate helped Will haul Tom's dripping dead weight to the bed.

"They've gotten even more nutjob-y lately," she finally explained, having no qualms with helping William get his twin out of his sopping wet suit. "They'll take humans by force and say it's for their safety. I didn't think it was true until tonight. I'd heard rumors, but ... "

Kate straightened and turned away from the bed. After kicking off her shoes, she padded barefoot into the bathroom to get out of her soaked dress.

"For their safety?" William demanded. "How is shooting someone with a tranquilizer like a rabid animal and kidnapping them 'for their own _safety_ '!?"

"Maybe they want to prove we're being systematically sterilized by the homo superior agenda," she answered archly, sarcasm virtually dripping from every syllable. "I don't know. Like I said, they're _insane_. I thought it was all talk and threatening phone calls until tonight."

With Thomas out cold and bundled up in a blanket, William turned his attention to getting out of his own clothes. Tomorrow morning, Tom was going to have a conniption over the state of their bespoke suits, but for now all he could do was drape them over the back of a chair and hope dry cleaning could help.

"Can I stay here tonight?" Kate wondered, appearing in the doorway in a hotel robe, looking remarkably vulnerable without stiletto heels and a set of kitchen knives. "I know sleeping with a woman isn't the _ideal_ way to end your bachelor party, but I promise: no funny business."

In spite of everything, Will cracked a smile. "Sure," he agreed. "I think I've got something for you to wear in my suitcase, if you want."

She nodded and headed for the minibar, making the executive decision that the two of them were in bad need of a stiff drink.

"You're awfully composed for a woman with deadly aim whose boyfriend was just kidnapped by radical terrorists," William finally pointed out while pulling some dry clothes from his suitcase for them both.

"Eli can handle himself," Kate said calmly. "And I have friends in high places."

Will smirked and pulled a faded t-shirt over his head. "That sounds appropriately menacing, so I'm not that worried."

After downing one of the glasses of the whiskey she poured each of them, Kate allowed herself to crack a slight grin. "Me, neither."

With that, she grabbed up the offered change of clothes and retreated back into the bathroom, leaving William to the drink on the minibar, which he promptly added another tiny bottle to before gulping down.


	2. Earth from Outer Space

It seemed like only several hours ago that William was standing on the observation deck of the ship watching the Earth shrink further and further from view, his head full of questions and absolutely void of any answers. Before leaving, his mother -- seemingly having a change of heart about the arrangement -- wanted to know if he was _sure_ he was 'willing' to go through with this, taking him into her arms and hugging him in a tight, desperate squeeze, as if she might lose him forever if he stepped foot on the ship. At the time, he didn't know _what_ to think and had only accepted his fate without question. Now, in too short a time to feel as though he had _traveled_ to the Andromeda Galaxy, he found himself arriving on an alien planet. _Skrullos._

What was actually several days of travel had been swallowed up by finishing two books and brushing up on some formal greetings in the Skrull _Thort_ language, for which he seemed to lack the extra tongue needed to pronounce half the sounds. The Genoshan ambassador to Skrullos, who had likely been selected for his rather impressive mutation (the ability to rapidly and fluidly understand any language he encountered), was helpful, but only in small measures. By the time they disembarked from the ship, William felt just as unprepared for what lay ahead as he did upon departing Earth.

And being put out in front of the ambassador as they walked, despite it being his place, did nothing to help soothe William's nervousness. At least, thanks largely to what was deemed appropriate by Skrull society, he was saved the embarrassment of potentially stammering through his well-rehearsed greeting in front of Emperor Dorrek.

Just in front of the Emperor's grandson.

"Prince William," the ambassador stated, introducing the two of them with all due formality, "allow me to introduce you to Prince Dorrek."

While William bowed his head in a way he felt was polite for someone of similar station, Dorrek did what all Skrulls seemed particularly good at and just looked unbelievably _imposing_. He was tall, broad, and had an unexpected crop of blond hair that somehow didn't clash horribly with his green skin. In fact, if not for the altogether stoic expression Dorrek wore, William might have ventured so far as to call him _handsome_ , possessing a well-defined jaw and classically handsome facial features, with neither the distinctive ears nor chin of his full-blooded brethren.

"I welcome you, William of Genosha," Dorrek stated formally.

William only recognized the phrase because it was repeated to him by the ambassador so many times during their rehearsal. His answer came automatically, but in an attempt not to sound _practiced_. "I am humbled by your kindness, Prince of Skrullos." To him, the rough translations sounded stilted and overly formal, but it must have meant something on a cultural level he simply did not understand.

After the exchange, the ambassador glowed with pride -- apparently William did well enough -- and proceeded with further introductions to the rest of the Skrull delegation that accompanied Prince Dorrek. From there, with formalities seen to, it was easy enough for William to be ushered into the palace proper and shown to his guest chambers, all the while being reminded by his ambassadorial escort what sort of timetable they would be operating under for the remainder of his trip.

It wasn't until the door shut behind the retreating ambassador, who had many things to see to, that William breathed a sigh of relief.

"You will be performing the mating ritual in two hours."

The unexpected voice, belonging to Dorrek, startled William noticeably and he turned to see the Skrull prince had lingered behind after everyone else had departed.

"That was _not_ part of the arrangements made by King Magnus," William answered, once his wits returned to him. It took a moment to process something like 'mating ritual.'

"It is necessary."

"No," William countered. "It is _necessary_ for the terms of the treaty outlined by King Magnus and Emperor Dorrek to be adhered to."

The Skrull prince looked confused, but only for a very brief moment before his face relaxed into another stoic expression. "The treaty only speaks of _marriage_. This is an Earth custom. You must be mated with Princess Anella according to our traditions, as well."

If arranged marriage was terrible, arranged and scheduled ritualistic _mating_ was fucking horrific.

For a long moment, William couldn't formulate full sentences in his own mind, let alone vocalize them to the surprisingly unmoved prince. (Somewhere along the way, William decided that if he was ever this _matter of fact_ about his own brother's 'mating,' then he should be put out of his misery as quickly as possible.)

Finally, Will managed to choke out, "This is an outrage! You cannot expect me to mate with Princess Anella so soon!"

That statement, though quite serious, seemed to crack Prince Dorrek's stoic exterior and he threatened to smile. "You misunderstand."

"How am I _misunderstanding_?" William demanded. He was unbearably annoyed to have such a thing thrust upon him only to be the object of Dorrek's, however small, amusement.

"You will take Princess Anella as your mate in a ritual according to our traditions. You are not required to perform the mating act." Dorrek paused, then corrected himself in what William supposed was the best approximation of stoic Skrull embarrassment. "You are required to perform the mating act. Eventually. You are not required to perform the mating act two hours from now during the mating ritual. This complies with the wishes of King Magnus."

"How -- "

"King Magnus expressed that humans do not wish to mate without much social intercourse and that in an arranged mating such as this you would be especially sensitive to this desire."

William found himself a little lightheaded with this excess of information and felt it was linked directly to Dorrek's use of the word 'mating.' If he could go a whole minute without hearing about how he was expected to eventually have sex with a complete stranger for some archaic reason or another, he might be able to breathe properly again.

But, of course, Dorrek wasn't very keen on _shutting up_.

"The mating act is not vital to the completion of the ritual. It is desirable for offspring, but not necessary for the purposes of our treaty."

When William said nothing, Dorrek _kept_ not shutting up.

"The ritual itself will signify the completion of the treaty for the Empire."

"So," William began, wanting to interrupt to get a word in edgewise. He paused, though, and thought for a long moment about what he wanted to say. "I'm _technically_ marrying Princess Annella in two hours."

"You will be mated."

"Married."

"Ma -- " Dorrek cut himself off when William's eyes narrowed in a subtle gesture almost _daring_ him to say 'mated' one more time. Instead, his eventual confirmation sounded more like a question than definite answer. "Yes?"

"This is unacceptable," William decided. It was only _somewhat_ acceptable when his grandfather told him it would be expected of him. It was _barely_ acceptable when he thought about the greater good and the new treaty being forged with his selfless sacrifice. Now, with this 'news' sprung on him with absolutely no tact whatsoever and without the helpful presence of an ambassador to translate stoic Skrull into hyperventilating human, the situation had become completely _unacceptable_.

William's declaration seemed to bring Dorrek's stoic reserve to an end, however, and he set his jaw in such a way that suggested he was holding however many tongues Skrulls happened to have to keep himself from saying something worse than what eventually came out. "It is not acceptable for me, either," he said with a great deal more diplomacy than Will assumed him capable of. "Princess Anella is my sister and I do not wish to see her ma -- _married_ \-- to a perfect stranger and removed from our homeworld to live on an alien planet. Especially not with a human who cannot accept the honor bestowed upon him without complaint!"

Somehow, Will figured if Thomas were here, he wouldn't have been able to keep himself from shouting ' _oh snap!_ ' at Dorrek's progressively annoyed spiel.

"I apologize," William finally relented. "It _is_ an honor to be -- " He paused, inwardly cringing. " -- to be _mated_ to Princess Anella. I meant no disrespect toward your sister. I'm just ... unprepared for this. Treaties have not been sealed in this way for many, many years on Earth."

Whatever offense Dorrek had taken seemed to be alleviated by William's apology. "We do not usually mate for this purpose, either."

It was a relief, at least for William, to know that he wasn't the only person unhappy in this arrangement. "So, Anella and I have something in common already," he suggested, trying to look on the bright side.

At that, Dorrek actually smiled, though only just a little. The touch of sadness in the gesture reminded William of Thomas' indignant reaction on his behalf. "You do."

\--

Sunlight filtered in through the only partially closed curtains, casting streaks of orange sunlight across the room. Thomas complained through the thinning haze of sleep and rolled onto his side away from the bright glow of mid-morning. He was surprised to find warmth close by and gravitated toward it without a second thought. His head throbbed with what felt like half a dozen separate hangovers all happening simultaneously and the only thing he wanted was a convenient excuse to stave off the awareness brought about by the sun.

"Morning, sunshine," Kate murmured from within the circle of Thomas' sleepy embrace.

That was more than enough to startle him away from the last vestiges of sleep -- and halfway across the bed.

"Kate!" Tom shouted, immediately regretting his surprised reaction when his head rang in response to his own words. _Fuck_ , that hurt.

"Calm down," she said, sitting up and running a hand through her sleep-mussed hair. She was wearing one of William's shirts, the crude drawing of Oscar the Grouch in a recycling bin was stretched across her chest in a way that silenced Thomas with a mixture of speechless allure and just plain _weirdness_.

He was so confused by what was going on, especially after waking up next to Kate (in his brother's clothes), Thomas nearly missed what she said next. "You might not remember much from last night," Kate explained. "The NHR decided to throw down and you got the wrong end of a tranq dart."

Thomas fell back against the bed and pulled a pillow over his face to block the excess light, groaning in embarrassment. "Then what happened?"

"They tagged Eli. And Cassie. Your brother's not bad in a fight, but we couldn't stop them from teleporting out."

" _Great_."

"They're probably upstate by now," Kate went on as she rolled herself out of bed and moved to close the curtains for Thomas' sake. "I'll need to get a GPS lock on Eli's tracking device and secure transport. They won't try to smuggle them into Canada until sometime tomorrow."

With the sunlight properly blotted out, Thomas let the pillow slip away from his face, only to realize Kate was wearing nothing _but_ his brother's shirt -- and the weird hotness of that fact was beginning to get to him. "I can get you transport," he offered, sitting up and trying to rub the throbbing pain away from his temple. "Where's Will?"

"He left for Genosha around six this morning. Your aunt called, said the jump window to Andromeda was coming up faster than expected and he needed to leave this afternoon."

"And I slept through _all_ that?" Thomas complained. "Was I dead to the world or something?"

"Oh, yeah," Kate laughed and helped herself to the orange juice in the minibar. "You kept drooling on his shoulder all night. It was kind of adorable. He said to tell you not to worry about him, he'd be okay." And she seemed to believe that, at least.

Tom put his feet over the edge of the bed and stood with some effort, making his way toward the bathroom. His six separate hangovers had made him queasy and feeling as weak as a kitten. "Who do you think tipped the NHR off about Eli?"

"Anyone?" Kate wondered, stretching out on the couch with her phone and bottle juice. "Everyone knows he's big into MGH. It just depends on whether they're pissed about that in general or about what he _really_ does with it."

"He actually _helps_ people," Thomas defended. "This whole country is too damn obsessed with making up for Nixon's mistakes and now most sapiens have been reduced to second-class citizens. Suddenly, certain people aren't eligible for government assistance or are passed over for jobs they're perfectly qualified for. Employers are doing DNA screenings and fertilization clinics are turning away couples who don't fit their criteria! Eli helps sapiens _fit in_. It might not be a fucking glamorous existence, but it's better than being outed for human in a society that's less and less accepting."

"Preaching to the choir, babe," Kate answered with a laugh when Thomas finally finished his tirade. "I might not be looking for government assistance _or_ a job any time soon, but I am tired of being called 'that homo sapien heiress' by the tabloids. What does it matter? Would I be prettier if I looked like a pin-cushion or talked to fish?"

Despite his better judgment on the subject, Thomas found himself venturing, "You'd still be drop-dead gorgeous."

Kate laughed. "You must have bumped your head last night, Tommy, but thanks."

Red-faced and at a loss for words, Thomas ducked into the bathroom with a change of clothes and spent several minutes scrubbing his face and attempting to wake himself up fully. Several minutes in, Kate asked for her 'little black dress,' which had been drying on the back of the door, and Thomas handed it out to her without looking.

"I can't trek upstate to raise some hell for the NHR in this dress," Kate said as she changed in the bedroom and Thomas tried to concentrate on brushing his teeth. "I'll have to go home first."

"Ah shuff goo wiff yoo," he mumbled around a thick mouthful of minty toothpaste.

Kate laughed outside the door, prompting Tom to spit and try again. "Really," he insisted. "They probably would've tagged you last night, if they could have. It's dangerous and I know you're planning to go in alone."

"I work better alone." She paused. "Well, your brother is pretty decent at keeping up."

Thomas opened the bathroom door to find Kate leaning against the wall next to it, dressed and slipping into her shoes from last night. He held a plastic-wrapped hotel toothbrush out to her with a smile. "I can hold my own with you, Bishop."

She grinned and grabbed the toothbrush, slipping into the bathroom once both her heels were strapped on. "We'll see about that, Maximoff."

\--

Although very scientifically minded, William found Skrulls to also be deeply rooted in religious tradition, even if he failed to understand their system of beliefs.

As such, he was not able to see Anella until the ritual itself. Once the tedious ceremony was conducted, they were still not able to speak to each other. Instead, they were escorted to a perfectly abysmal sort of cavern, under what William could only describe as the weirdest church he'd ever been in, and made to sit listening to the distant drip of water in the dark bowels of the earth.

Anella was seated on a slab of stone across from the slab of stone William was sitting on and for the first time he was able to really see his, well, _wife_ without the hooded ceremonial garb or distractions of trying to perfectly execute the ritual. She looked a great deal like her brother, with classically beautiful features where his had been classically handsome. Her blond hair was intricately braided for the ceremony and, like her brother, Anella had several piercings in each ear. William supposed, from a purely subjective standpoint, that she was _pretty_.

As the minutes of silence wore on, his attention wandered to the cave itself and the far-off sound of water. William couldn't help but think that the drip was accumulating some sort of alien mold. The spores of which they were likely breathing in. Which he could be deathly allergic to, what with it being _alien mold spores_.

"I do not think you are going to die from alien mold spores," Anella said simply.

William's attention snapped around and he spent a whole minute trying to figure out if he _said_ anything or not.

"You said nothing," she explained, "but according to tradition, the properties of this place allow mates to achieve a oneness of spirit."

He looked as unenthusiastic about the prospect as Anella sounded. "So, magic cave?"

"Apparently," Anella drawled boredly. "I suppose if we were both fully Skrull and cared to try, we could have some sort of ... _mystical true love experience_."

William barely stifled a snort of laughter. Oh, he liked her attitude.

And just thinking about that got a broad, almost mischievous, smile from Anella.

"Thank you," she said after a moment, obviously bucking tradition by getting up from her spot and settling on the stone slab next to William. "For thinking I am pretty."

"Oh," he breathed out awkwardly. "Uh. Wow. That's weird. But, er, you're welcome."

Her smile turned sympathetic. "I apologize. You cannot connect, can you? I only feel a little, as I am half-Kree, but I will try not to ... feel too much. Your mind is very private."

William felt his cheeks heating with embarrassment, not sure if Anella meant in general or, specifically, his mind. "It's all right, I'm just -- "

"You were worried we would be forced to mate, but this is much more intimate. I do not need a moldy alien cave to tell me _that_ , William."

He laughed again, a little nervous and a little relieved at the same time. This wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Though, as soon as he thought about how bad he thought it would be, William scrambled to think about how nice it was in actuality, in an effort not to offend Anella with his thoughts. Or feelings. Or ... whatever sort of vibe she was picking up from him due to the magic mold spore cave.

Anella was still smiling, even while William tried to do something unoffensive with his thoughts, and reached out to tentatively touch his hand. "It is not as bad as I imagined, either."

\--

Rouses Point was a small town almost as far north as anyone could go in New York without crossing the border into Canada. Only thirty minutes outside of Montreal, it was the ideal sleepy village no one would anticipate the New Human Resistance making its base of operations for smuggling the willing and unwilling sapiens alike into one of the few countries in the world that still seemed interested in maintaining genetic equality. Kate had wondered ever since hearing vague whispers about their dealings what the real plot was. It couldn't be that simple, could it?

"I think my lips are wind-chapped," she teased as Tommy set her down on her feet again. He had carried her damsel-in-distress style all one hundred and eighty-some miles from New York. When he said he would arrange transport for her, Kate imagined something a little classier, but at least it wasn't a car. Tommy just wasn't the sort of guy she wanted to be cooped up in a car with for a nearly two hundred mile drive.

"We passed a shop a while back," Tommy answered with a cheeky grin, tilting his head back the way they came.

Kate rolled her eyes, though he likely couldn't see it from behind her Gucci sunglasses, and looped her arm around his. "Come on, we've got sleuthing to do," she reminded. With her cell phone in hand, she pulled up the tracking application and selected Eli's GPS signal, walking at a casual pace in the direction the map indicated. It would likely kill Tommy to slow down for a few minutes, but it was a hell of a lot better than rushing in without a plan. Just like _someone_ did last night.

It didn't take long to find the source of the signal: an average-looking house on an average-looking street. Kate didn't pause when they reached the destination indicated by her application and walked right past the house, just peripherally observing it.

"I could check the perimeter," Tommy suggested.

"No." Kate pocketed her cell phone and reached up to press the tiny button on the frame of her sunglasses, glancing over her shoulder at the house to check for thermal signatures. "No one's home, but the house is wired."

"Have much experience breaking into houses?"

Kate shrugged, but offered Tommy a smile that was all sorts of secretive as she pushed her sunglasses up into her hair. "A lady never kisses and tells."

Eventually, their casual pace and Kate's patience brought them down the next street to cut through a neighbor's yard and toward the back of the target house. Kate knelt below the line of the medium height fence surrounding the back yard and shrugged the small duffel bag off her shoulder, casually removing a full sling of arrows and a compact combat bow.

"I thought you said no one was home," Tommy pointed out.

"These arrows," Kate answered, indicating a few in her sling, "aren't for people."

After shrugging the sling over her shoulder, Kate extended the bow and strung it with artful ease. She selected an arrow by touch alone and nocked it into place. "Stay back. Follow my lead. Step only where I step. Got it?"

Tommy nodded his understanding.

She offered him a reassuring -- if cocky -- grin, then dropped her sunglasses back into place and stood up to take aim. The bow creaked in a way Kate always found soothingly melodic and she adjusted for wind before loosing the arrow. According to the thermal reading of the yard, the arrow dropped precisely where she wanted it. The small canister attached to the shaft burst open two seconds after impact and blanketed the ground in a rush of smoke.

" _Sweet_ ," the speedster whispered excitedly, clearly torn between watching Kate and watching the crisscross pattern of laser trip beams highlighted by the smoke.

"We have fifteen seconds," Kate announced, stepping over the fence and carefully across the yard, into the large squares formed by the crossing beams.

Doing precisely as he was told, Tom followed her, stepping in the clear spaces she stepped into and only seeming to breathe again once they were on the back porch.

Kate disarmed the security system with alarming ease and popped the lock on the door, holding out an arm to keep Tommy from rushing in head first. "Follow my lead," she repeated, stepping inside after careful inspection of the thermal read-out. There didn't seem to be any more trip beams, but she wasn't letting her guard down.

"It's an MGH lab," Tommy said after careful inspection of the first room they came to. There was a table laid out with the telltale signs of production, complete with syringes and small bags of carefully doled out pills.

"That doesn't make _sense_ ," Kate declared, confused and simultaneously _annoyed_. Why would the New Human Resistance be after Eli, who gives MGH to people so they can pass genetic inspection or qualify for fertility treatment, if they're producing it themselves? "We need to find Eli. _Now_."

Tom nodded. "What's the basement situation?"

Kate touched the frame of her sunglasses again and looked down at her feet, trying to get a reading on the basement. "None." She paused, trying not to think about what that might mean, with Eli's tracking device being here. It's a chip, embedded under the skin, and if there are no thermals -- "We need to check every room. I want answers."

The search from then on was systematic, with Kate relying only on what solid facts they could gather without letting her emotions get in the way and Tommy following her lead, just as she asked. When they were certain the house was absolutely empty, from the heavily curtained living room to the vacant upstairs bedrooms, and the only room left to check was the basement, Kate took a deep breath and readied herself for confrontation with inevitability.

After searching the basement door for trip wires and sensors, she picked the lock and let the door swing open into the looming darkness of a long staircase down. From her sling, she drew another arrow and nocked it, firing into the darkness at a downward angle. The arrow hit the far wall across from the staircase and the force of the impact cracked the interior chamber of the transparent shaft, sending out an eerie green glow to illuminate the dark. Kate could tell Tommy was itching to say something, but understood the gravity of the situation and was politely refraining.

"Special order," she informed, guessing at what he was holding back. "I'm an eccentric billionaire heiress who has a lot of insane hobbies." Despite it being a joke, the tone Kate usually reserved for banter with Tommy didn't come into play.

His hand touched her shoulder gently, urging her on. "Come on. I'll follow your lead."

Kate took another breath, steadying herself, and started down the stairs.

The basement was moist, as if a pipe somewhere had sprung a leak, and larger than anticipated. Her thermal scan did nothing, prompting her to switch to night vision and fire off several more arrows, just so Tommy could see where he was going.

"It's bigger than the whole house," Tommy said once the green glow of Kate's arrows had illuminated the vast dimensions of the empty space they were standing in.

The basement was largely unfinished, the cement floor tapering off into bare earth at one end. Outside, the backyard had been landscaped slightly lower than street level, leaving one wall in the subterranean level nothing more than a pile of dirt. There was something unsettling about that, something that inspired Kate to switch between every viewing option her modified specs had to offer until she found it ...

"Kate?" Tommy asked when she rushed toward the mound of dirt and started digging. "Kate, what is it?"

Eventually, she sat back on her heels and let her bow rest across her knees, pushing up her sunglasses to get a good look at the small object she excavated from the dirt.

Worry had seeped into Tommy's voice by then. "Kate?" he repeated, stepping up behind her and crouching down.

"It's Eli's tracking chip," Kate answered softly. She brushed the dirt from the penny-sized piece of metal and held it up for them both to see. Even in the green glow of the illuminating arrows, they could see the chip was smeared with blood.


	3. Everything You Are

"What is Earth like?"  
  
It seemed to William like a question with no particularly _thorough_ answer, considering that he was walking with Anella through what he could only describe as a garden of intricately carved vine-and-moss covered stone under the light of a star he was only used to seeing in astronomy books. When he'd asked what Skrullos was like, no one told him anything like _this_.  
  
"The sky's blue," he answered, thinking he should start with the basics. Anella's smile seemed like a carefully hidden laugh, though. "There's more ocean than land. The north and south poles of the planet are frozen and the middle region, around what we call the equator, is very warm."  
  
Anella finally did laugh, because she already knew those basics. "What are the _people_ like, William?"  
  
He smiled, even while trying to think of a nice way to spin the current political climate. "Curious by nature, a little lazy by design."  
  
"Lazy by design?" Anella wondered, taking the next turn in the somewhat maze-like garden. Somehow, she seemed to know exactly where she was going and William followed her lead, with their now constant chaperon -- Prince Dorrek -- bringing up the rear at a couple yards distance.  
  
They were walking off the remnants of an unsatisfying dinner, at least by William's standards. While he was the sort of guy who would try anything once, especially if it meant being diplomatic, he found the food served on Skrullos to be a little too strange for him. Their approximation of Earth food was virtually tasteless, while the food Skrulls themselves ate was downright horrifying. His tongue threw in the towel entirely after he was urged to try a popular Skrull dish that tasted not entirely unlike pickles fermented in strawberry preserves.  
  
Finally, after thinking about it for a moment, he answered, "Technological advancement has made modern humanity very complacent."  
  
"You sound like one of the priests here," Anella laughed. After a couple of days worth of understanding, William had realized that Skrull society was split between scientific research and religion. "Do you not like technology?"  
  
William smiled. "Don't get me wrong, I love technology. I can't imagine popping my corn the old fashioned way."  
  
"Popping your corn?" It wasn't the first Earth reference that had gone over Anella's head since they were able to really talk. The first one, of course, he apologized for, but she insisted he should speak with her as naturally as he would anyone else, if he felt patient enough to explain the things she didn't understand.  
  
"It's, uh -- " He floundered, trying to think of a not highly technical way of explaining what he meant. "Popcorn is a sort of food we have on Earth. Hard to explain, better experienced, and I only know how to cook it in an electric food cooker. We can have some when we get to Genosha, if you want."  
  
Anella smiled at the offer. William had come to realize that conversations with Anella were rife with literal interpretations and absolutely no contractions, but that she was eager to understand humanity. So eager, in fact, that he finally realized she was _looking forward_ to living on Earth. All this, to her, seemed like an adventure and made William feel ashamed for how much he'd grown to hate the idea of it before even meeting her.  
  
"I would like that," she answered. "So, you enjoy the comforts of technology, because it cooks your food, but you do not like that your fellow humans have become similarly lazy with complacency?"  
  
William laughed. "It's more complicated than that."  
  
"Of course it is." Anella's smile was almost secretive, as if she knew precisely what he meant and was only teasing him by being _that_ literal.  
  
After a pause, during which Anella took an unexpected turn in the garden that left William with the impression that she was purposefully attempting to lose the imposing figure of their chaperon, she asked, "May I ask something private? About humans?"  
  
 _Private_ seemed to have another meaning here, as far as William was concerned, but he smiled nevertheless. He really _liked_ helping Anella learn about his planet and appreciated her explaining the intricacies of her own, so how could he say no? "Yes, of course."  
  
Anella looked briefly embarrassed, perhaps anticipating more resistance on his part, then took a deep breath before speaking. "I am told that on Earth there are males and females."  
  
"There are males and females here," William pointed out, thinking this was more strange than actually private.  
  
"Yes," Anella confirmed, "but we can be either. Or both."  
  
 _Oh_. This was where the private part came in, wasn't it? William was so busy thinking about the implications of being both male and female that he forgot to ask for further clarification.  
  
Still, Anella forged on. "Humans are born one sex and never change," she said, trying to lead William somewhere his mind just didn't logically follow.  
  
"That's not necessarily true," he answered.  
  
However, before he could go on, there was a noise of a hanging vine behind them being brushed and the looming figure of Prince Dorrek cast a shadow over them both. William chalked it up to Skrull shape shifting, but Dorrek seemed to look taller and taller every time he saw the prince.  
  
"Anella," Dorrek said simply.  
  
"Yes, Dorrek," the princess answered, in a statement rather than question, as if she needed no further clarification as to his meaning.  
  
This, unfortunately, was an all too common situation these past few days. William was beginning to resent Prince Dorrek's very _presence_ , as it was always a cause for such a radical change in Anella: where she was once happy and talkative, she became the stoic Skrull her brother seemed to always be.  
  
"Prince William," Anella said formally, "will you join me inside for refreshments?"  
  
Knowing this meant, essentially, water (and being thankful that Skrulls actually drank water the way humans did), William offered her a smile he hoped was reassuring. "Yes, thank you."  
  
Without continuing the conversation, Anella led the way back through the garden toward the imperial palace. Dorrek, much to William's annoyance, followed directly behind them.  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
After several _more_ days of diplomacy, William was feeling anxious to get back home. Not only was he practically _starving_ with his inability to stomach most of the food presented to him, but the days were a little longer on Skrullos and the interstellar jetlag was beginning to weigh him down. It was a relief to realize that the morning of his -- or, rather, _their_ \-- departure had finally arrived, but disappointing to remember that it would not be as easy to leave Skrullos as simply boarding the ship.  
  
On the contrary, it was a diplomatic gauntlet, chiefly comprised of ceremony and his jumping through hoops a little too small for his waist.  
  
By the time he and Anella had boarded the ship, along with all of her luggage (though she had much less than he assumed she would) and several members of her household staff who would be making the journey to Earth with them, William was exhausted.  
  
"You look very tired," Anella said, as they made their way from their launch seats to the observation deck after the ship broke free of the planet's upper atmosphere.  
  
"I _am_ very tired," William answered honestly, but not without a little smile.  
  
On the observation deck, they watched Skrullos retreating into the dark distance of space and William was struck by how _unmoved_ Anella was by it.  
  
"I have been off world many times," she explained, only once there was nothing more of interest to see. "I am looking forward to seeing Earth."  
  
William smiled. "I'm looking forward to showing you Earth." After a pause, during which he weighed the pros and cons of being _absolutely_ honest with Anella, he added, "Without your brother being around to intimidate either of us."  
  
Anella looked embarrassed for a whole two seconds before William reached out to take her hand. "You noticed that?" she wondered.  
  
"It's hard not to notice something like that," Will answered. "I'm glad he had business with the Kree and didn't chaperon us all the way back to Earth."  
  
"He means well," she tried to excuse.  
  
William, on the other hand, thought Dorrek was an abusive bully. His own brother might tease him from time to time, but Thomas didn't try to keep him in line and William, in turn, never took it upon himself to police his brother's behavior. The fact that Anella was so eager to adjust herself to meet with Dorrek's approval, then attempted to excuse his treatment of her, only seemed to cement the opinion in William's mind.  
  
"Of course," he agreed, not entirely sure if his opinion would be welcome, much less received well.  
  
There was a slightly awkward pause, before William ventured, "Would you like to watch a film? It's a long way back to Earth and there's not much fun to be had on this ship."  
  
Anella drew herself closer without letting go of William's hand, letting him lead the way from the observation deck. "What is a film?"  
  
"It's something we watch on Earth for entertainment. Like a theater production, but digitally recorded. I have this great documentary series about Earth itself." Up until now, William didn't think being a Discovery Channel geek would come in handy.  
  
She smiled broadly at the suggestion. "I would like that very much, William. Will you watch the documentary films with me?"  
  
"Of course," he answered.  
  
Once out of the observation deck, it was only a short walk to the large, spacious room that comprised his quarters. It was a shame there was no popcorn on board the ship, otherwise sitting through the first several episodes of the series was perfect. Anella, as he suspected she might be, was fascinated by the documentary and hardly wanted to take a break from the _Fresh Water_ episode to have a meal, but eventually relented when she realized how hungry William was.  
  
The late lunch they ate was the first decent meal William felt as though he'd had in nearly a week, even though it consisted primarily of fruits and vegetables and he was craving something with a little more substance. Anella, surprisingly, enjoyed the food in a way William hadn't been able to manage on Skrullos, sparking just a small amount of envy on the prince's part.  
  
Feeling more and more like himself the further they got from Skrullos, William was able to relax more than he had been able to the entire trip, even with Anella. She seemed to relax a great deal, too, flourishing once out from under the shadow of her brother and without the restraint of formal decorum that William found just as unbearable on his own planet.  
  
After the sixth episode concluded, which marked more than halfway through the series, they were both exhausted enough to come to the mutual decision to end their evening, though Anella had quite a bit to say on the way from William's quarters to those reserved for her use during the trip.  
  
"I would like to see _every_ location," she said as they walked. "Erta Ale. The Lechuguilla Caves. You didn't tell me Earth was so _beautiful_!"  
  
"I'm sure Skrullos is just as amazing," William practically demurred.  
  
"Parts of it," Anella granted, "but I've seen all the amazing places on Skrullos. Have you ever seen the aurora borealis?"  
  
Feeling a little embarrassed to admit it, William blushed as he answered, "No. But I'd like to."  
  
Anella smiled. "May we go?"  
  
Her smile was practically contagious and William couldn't help but return it. "I'd like that very much."  
  
Soon enough, they arrived at Anella's quarters and William escorted her to the threshold of the door. "I hope you're comfortable here," he said. "Let me know if there's anything you need."  
  
"I will," she promised.  
  
On his way back to his quarters after saying goodnight, William couldn't help but think of what just transpired as something like a date.  
  
A really, really weird _date_.  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
Much later, a small amount of turbulence woke William from his sleep and he rolled over in his bunk to check the bedside computer display. It took him a moment to focus on the screen, but the piloting computer was reporting a slight decrease in power to the inertial dampeners and that all other systems were functioning normally.  
  
He stayed awake to watch the computer screen, knowing the malfunction alerted one of the human pilots and that he would be reporting in shortly. Upon secondary inspection, all systems checked out and the slight decrease in power was attributed to a natural spacial disturbance.  
  
William had just fallen back against his pillow when there was a chime at his door signifying a visitor.  
  
"What?" he demanded, anticipating the co-pilot, perhaps reporting in person just in case William hadn't noticed the problem already.  
  
The door opened, but nothing was immediately said.  
  
Propping himself up on his elbows, grumpy enough with loss of sleep to tell off whichever tongue-tied co-pilot couldn't work up the nerve to address him, William was surprised to see Anella standing quietly in his doorway.  
  
"Anella," he said with obvious surprise. "What is it?"  
  
She took that as invitation to step inside his quarters, but didn't immediately speak. Her hair was down around her shoulders and the clothes she wore for bed were unexpectedly baggy, as if several sizes too large for her. Or maybe, as William was beginning to suspect was the case with many Skrulls, she was simply expressing her current emotional state through her size. It might have been some sort of non-verbal communication on Skrullos, but in his quarters well after 0200 hours, it was just _confusing_ for him.  
  
"Anella? Are you okay?"  
  
She took another step closer and looked up from the floor, finally. "I do not actually like space travel," Anella admitted in a quiet voice.  
  
At long last, William was able to add everything up and he felt like an insensitive idiot. "It's all right," he said, sitting up completely and putting his feet over the edge of the bed.  
  
Inspired, Anella crossed the rest of the way to the bed on bare feet and sat down next to William. "I was very young when I went off world before. And my father was with me."  
  
And, William thought, she wasn't on her way to an alien planet to live amongst alien people as the mate of an alien prince.  
  
"I hate space travel," he answered, putting a comforting arm around Anella's shoulders. "I think there's strength in numbers, though. Will you stay here with me?"  
  
Anella took a long moment to consider her answer, then merely nodded.  
  
"Thank you," William said, as though Anella was doing him a favor by staying.  
  
That said, he shifted himself back further onto the bed and slid beneath the covers, making enough room for Anella to settle in next to him. If he didn't stop to think about it too much, this was just like sharing a bed with Kate: they both needed to sleep and were being strictly platonic.  
  
"William?" she finally asked after a handful of moments.  
  
Having been on the verge of sleep again after so long a silence, Will answered with just a questioning noise.  
  
Anella was quiet again, obviously thinking about what she wanted to say, then wondered, "What did you mean when you said humans do not necessarily ever change their sex?"  
  
The question surprised him, as he hardly remembered the conversation apart from the interruption by Dorrek and how very little privacy they were given to speak candidly after that. It was a struggle, but William opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling overhead, trying to clear his brain of sleep in order to think of a proper answer for Anella.  
  
"Sometimes," William finally spoke, "humans will be born one sex, but feel they should have been born another."  
  
"I do not think Skrulls _can_ feel that way. We change our forms so often." She paused, sounding more sympathetic when she observed, "But humans cannot do that."  
  
William was quiet for a while, but only because Anella's head had come to rest on his shoulder and that wasn't as platonic as sharing a bed with Kate at all. "Right," he said when he realized he needed to speak. "It's very complicated. Some people choose just to live as the other sex, some people choose to undergo hormone treatment or surgery to change their body."  
  
"It must be difficult," Anella said in a soft voice William thought sounded _sad_ , "when your skin does not match how you feel inside."  
  
"Or," William suggested, "when the way you feel inside has nothing to do with your body, but everyone else says it must. In some regions of my planet, people who are attracted to the same sex, but don't feel as though they _should_ be the opposite sex, are only vaguely accepted if they undergo sexual reassignment surgery."  
  
Anella was quiet for another moment, but William could tell she was holding her breath. "So," she said slowly, "if a male felt attracted to another male, he must become a female to be accepted by his peers?"  
  
"Yes," he confirmed. "Many religion beliefs on my planet condemn same-sex relationships. In some places, they feel sexual reassignment is an acceptable ... _loop hole_ for their religious beliefs."  
  
By the time Anella answered again, she sounded as tired as William felt. "On Skrullos, we change sexes if it is necessary, to intimidate or to mate. It is considered strange to become emotionally attached to one sex."  
  
"I guess, if you can change so easily, you wouldn't feel as strongly about being one or the other. My culture is full of complicated societal roles for males and females that contribute in different ways to feelings like that. If sex were as fluid for humans, maybe it wouldn't matter. Or maybe we'd just have other problems." William thought it would be the latter. There _must_ be issues that arise, in Skrull society, not easily fixed by changing physical sex. What about gender identity? What about sexual orientation? Chalking it all up to what sex organs a person had or hypothetically could have didn't change anything, did it?  
  
His head swam with questions, but no answers loomed in the distance. He wondered why Anella was so curious about this -- or if it was just the differences between her species and the funny aliens who stayed in one shape all their lives -- and if he was really the best person to talk to about it. Just because he was gay didn't mean he necessarily understood all the issues that arose from human sexuality and gender identity.  
  
Which wasn't something Anella would understand or could potentially be thinking, actually. She was only asking him because, essentially, he was the only human she knew.  
  
"Why do you want to know?" William finally asked, though after some moments of silence had slipped by.  
  
He hadn't noticed that in the interim Anella had managed to fall asleep on his shoulder. William only realized when she didn't immediately answer and he finally glanced down at her.  
  
Maybe it didn't matter at all, Will finally concluded. She could have just as well been asking about Earth cloud formations and the rate of annual precipitation in desert regions, for all he knew, just wanting to listen to someone's voice to soothe her nerves about space travel.  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
Despite the homesickness he experienced during the last stretch of his diplomatic journey, William failed to realize just how much he _truly_ missed Earth until he was subject to the gravitational pull and atmospheric composition he was used to again, stepping down the boarding ramp of the ship and onto the palace receiving platform gratefully.  
  
"I like the way your planet feels," Anella commented brightly, much to William's amusement.  
  
"I was just thinking the same thing," he answered.  
  
Across the platform, in the spot he and Thomas had been waiting over a week before for their grandfather's initial return from Skrullos, the entire royal family -- notably sans his twin -- was gathered to greet them. William politely offered Anella his arm, before beginning the long walk from the ship.  
  
"Is it customary for one to be nervous?" she wondered as they walked, arm tightening around his momentarily.  
  
"Hell," William said, despite the smile he wore for his family, " _I'm_ nervous."  
  
Knowing she wasn't alone in the way she felt seemed to help Anella immensely and she did a much better job greeting his family than William felt he did meeting hers. Despite her private misgivings to him, Anella seemed perfectly confident, even when it came to greeting King Magnus.  
  
"Where's Thomas?" William wondered, dropping all pretense of being _that_ formal once introductions were concluded. "I thought he was just going to New York for a few days."  
  
"He was," his grandfather answered. Rather than give further explanation, Magnus turned and headed inside the palace.  
  
This prompted everyone else to follow, leaving William and Anella to walk at a faster than normal pace to keep up.  
  
"So, where is he?" Will wondered.  
  
"No one knows," Lorna answered.  
  
"We were hoping he would be back before you returned," Pietro supplied.  
  
Ahead of them, his mother exhaled a sigh that was both calm and controlled, catching William off guard. He expected something like this to upset her more. "William, please locate your brother."  
  
"I will," he promised.  
  
As his focus slipped away, concentration ebbing toward locating his twin, William realized Anella had effortlessly taken the lead as they walked, her free hand resting on his arm to guide him while he wasn't paying full attention. When he finally blinked awareness back into his head, they had stopped in the palace's grand entrance hall and all eyes were on him, expectant and waiting.  
  
"I'll try again," Will said, doing his best to ignore the slightly curious look on his mother's face. (He no doubt distracted her from impending disappointment in him by grasping Anella's hand properly and asking, in a quiet voice, that she not let go.)  
  
William released awareness from his body completely, only peripherally conscious from previous experience that he was hovering inches from the floor, shrouded in blue light, while he attempted to pinpoint Thomas' location. His mind's eye was drawn in a flash across the Atlantic, honing in on the familiar skyline of New York City. At first, he attempted to ignore the pull to look away from all the familiar places where Thomas would be -- his usual hotel suite, his favorite clubs -- but eventually the tug was too great to ignore and William realized Thomas was no longer in New York City.  
  
Before he could get an exact fix, his concentration snapped. Quite suddenly, his feet hit the floor and Anella caught him around the waist when his knees threatened to buckle under his own weight.  
  
"He isn't in New York," Will said, surprised to find his head aching with the force of the severed connection.  
  
"William," his mother said with only a small note of concern in her still remarkably calm voice, extending a handkerchief toward him.  
  
He was confused for several seconds, until Anella took the handkerchief and pressed to to his nose, collecting the trickle of blood that accompanied his headache.  
  
Just as he was beginning to come to a realization about what happened, his brain slid sideways. Thankfully, everything went dark before he actually hit the floor.  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
It felt like someone jabbed a long needle into his temple. William bolted up with the force of the pain and wished to God he hadn't the moment his head was off the pillow that had been cradling it.  
  
The room was dark, apart from the soft blue twilight seeping in past the curtains, and it took him a long moment to realize he was in his own bed.  
  
"I was so worried," his mother said, urging him to lay back down so she could place a cold compress on his forehead.  
  
William complied, vaguely aware of the stress and worry that had taken over his mother's tone. Wanda had been so calm just moments before. Or was it hours, now? "Tom isn't in New York," he insisted.  
  
"We know," Wanda said softly. After fussing at the compress for a moment, she reached for a glass of water and held it to his lips to let him drink. "Anella said you hardly ate while you were gone. We shouldn't have pushed you to search for Thomas. You're under so much stress, William."  
  
After several healthy gulps of water, Will dropped back against the bed and exhaled a soft sigh. "I'm okay. I don't think it was stress, mom, just ... it was like something cut me off." He reached up and tried to touch his forehead, but found the compress there instead. "I should go find Thomas."  
  
He didn't want to tell his mother, but after what happened at the club -- with Kate Bishop and the New Human Resistance -- he was worried that Thomas had done something extremely _stupid_.  
  
"You need to rest," Wanda insisted. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to William's cheek. "Your aunt and uncle are handling it. They went to New York while you were sleeping."  
  
"I could help," Will pressed. "He could be anywhere. It would be easier if I located him -- I know what to expect now and I'm prepared -- "  
  
" _William!_ "  
  
The shout was so sudden, so booming, that it startled him into silence.  
  
His mother looked positively furious, the flash of hurt and confusion in her eyes bringing back painful memories from his childhood. How often had she complained of him being around when she didn't want him to be? How many times had she accused him of doing the exact opposite of what she wished? He had tried so hard to please her his entire life, but she often seemed outraged that he couldn't anticipate her desire telepathically and be the precise person she wanted or expected him to be. It was so unreasonable he couldn't stand it, but he wanted so badly to win her approval that it hurt.  
  
"You will _not_ leave the palace," she said, her voice lowered but tone still full of a fury he knew better than to reckon with.  
  
Unable to think of anything else to say, any logical protest that he was a grown man and he could do as he damn well pleased, all William managed was a quiet, "Yes, mother."  
  
Wanda was silent for a long moment, then stood from the edge of the bed and headed out of the room.  
  
Though the bedroom door was left open, William was too busy focusing on the shadowy ceiling above his bed and holding back the sudden burst of ridiculous tears to notice Anella standing in the doorway. By the time she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, his cheeks were damp and there was nothing he could do to combat the embarrassing predicament of being caught _crying_ like a child.  
  
"It is all right," Anella said, as if she could anticipate how he was feeling to be seen in the wake of such an outburst. She sat down in the space his mother had vacated and gently wiped the tears streaking his cheeks with the cuff of her sleeve. "Your mother is -- "  
  
" -- _unreasonable_ ," William finished, hating the sound of tears in his voice.  
  
Anella offered him an understanding smile. "All parents seem that way."  
  
"No," he said, reaching up to grasp her hand. It was so embarrassing to have her wiping his tears, as endearing as it might have been. "All my life, my mother has been two different people. When we're in public, when we're with the rest of the family, she's perfect. Kind, understanding, calm. But in private, when it's just me and Tom -- well, you heard her, didn't you?"  
  
"I did," Anella answered.  
  
"I'm sorry," William apologized. "I wish you'd only ever seen her the way everyone else does."  
  
"I wish you could know my brother the way I do," Anella supplied. "We have both seen the worst of our families, but that does not make us worse people by association."  
  
He smiled a little at that.  
  
Anella returned the smile and reached up to remove the compress from his forehead. "Unlike your mother, I do not think you should rest if you feel strong enough to move."  
  
William sat up in bed and spent a moment wiping his eyes on the back of his hand, trying to put himself back together to look, well, presentable. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this."  
  
"And I was _very_ happy for you to see me scared of space flight," Anella quipped.  
  
"Sarcasm?" William wondered. "I like it."  
  
Anella's smile blossomed into a grin that was just as contagious. After a moment, she wondered, "Why do you not leave to find your brother? If you think you can find him quickly, then you should go."  
  
William took a deep breath, exhaling a slow sigh. "I've spent my whole life never doing anything right, Anella. My mother has always been disappointed in me. I either do the wrong thing completely or I try to do what I think is right, only to find out she wanted me to do something else altogether."  
  
"So?" she asked, shrugging in such a casual way William couldn't help but laugh. "If you have disappointed her all your life, do you think what you do now will make a difference? You are who you are, William. You cannot waste your whole life trying to be something you are not. _Trust_ me."  
  
Though it hurt more than he could readily describe to realize it, Anella was _right_. He wouldn't admit it, not after backing himself into an arranged marriage just on the off chance it might meet his mother's approval, but he could at least nod in agreement to her words.  
  
"I should call Kate," he finally said. "Thomas was with her before I left. She might know where he is."  
  
Anella stood from the edge of the bed and offered him both her hands to help him to his feet. There was a brief moment of dizziness when he stood, but William fought through it and moved to the desk in the nearby corner. He seated himself and turned on the terminal screen. " _Kate Bishop_."  
  
The voice recognition software automatically dialed the number and he stared at the wait screen animation of two monitors connecting across a globe until Kate's smiling face appeared on in place of the animation. "Hi, Will," she greeted. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"  
  
Will smiled. "Hi, Kate. I was wondering what you've done with my idiot brother. He isn't back yet."  
  
Though her smile stayed in place, Kate was obviously confused by the request. "Tommy's here?"  
  
"He was there last week, before I went off world."  
  
Both her eyebrows shot up. "You went off world?"  
  
"Yeah, Kate. To Skrullos. Remember the party we tried to have before I left? We were pregaming at your favorite club before we headed to the g -- " William stopped short of saying _gay bar_. As comfortable as he might have become with Anella over the past week, he wasn't quite comfortable enough to explain that to her. Eventually, he knew he had to, but it wasn't something that needed to be dropped in passing without the courtesy of an actual conversation with her.  
  
Kate shook her head. "Sorry, Will. I love you, but I have no idea what you're talking about. I haven't seen you or Tommy for months."


	4. All the Fears and All the Faults You've Left Behind

On the far side of the basement was a trapdoor made of heavy steel that didn't exactly blend in with the concrete floor. It took both of them lifting to open it and Kate cracked another illuminating arrow to shine some green light down into the stairwell that was revealed.  
  
"Let's go," Tom suggested.  
  
"Tommy," she said, "this could be dangerous. We should call in backup."  
  
"Who would we call?" he wondered, his sarcasm only tempered by the fact that he was talking to _Kate_. "Will's off world and your boyfriend is the guy with the fake rep that puts him on the wrong side of every friend I have in the Red Guard."  
  
Kate shook her head. "I have friends, too."  
  
"In New York. If they're sapiens, it'll take _at least_ six hours for them to get here." Thomas paused, resting a hand on her shoulder again. "Eli doesn't have that kind of time, Kate. We have to go now."  
  
Those were the hard facts and Thomas couldn't read the expression she wore behind her specs, but he knew he probably hit a nerve. Kate was tough enough to roll with the punches, though, and she would either put him in his place or agree with him.  
  
"You're right," she eventually said, shrugging away from the comfort of his hand and sliding down into the hidden stairwell.  
  
Was he surprised that she put him in his place _and_ agreed with him? No. No, definitely not.  
  
Tom followed her down and took the illuminating arrow when she passed it back to him, figuring Kate would be relying on the night vision feature of her insanely cool (insanely expensive) James Bond specs. The tunnel that the stairs emptied out in was at least a whole level beneath the basement and wider than he expected. It was finished in high grade cement, rather than having that dug-out-by-hand feel that most tunnels beneath basements in suburban America were prone to, and went on for further than the bright light from the arrow managed to shine.  
  
"We'll be in Canada by the time we get to the end of this thing," Thomas complained. Whenever he saw a straight shot distance, even if it ended in darkness, he got the unreasonable urge to _run it_ , but Kate was still on point and was keeping him in check.  
  
"That's the point," Kate said. "Readings indicate this goes on for _miles_."  
  
"So, we know _how_ they get people into Canada. Any idea _why_?"  
  
"I always kind of imagined it was like one of those freaky religious cults, except with genealogy instead of God."  
  
Tom knew better than to laugh, but Kate painted a pretty amazing mental image of what the inner-workings of the New Human Resistance was like. "Sapien supremacist boot camp?"  
  
"Something like that," Kate agreed. "And I know I'm one to talk, but they have some really insane tech. You didn't see their teleporters last night, Tommy. They tagged specific humans and when the evac order came through, they just teleported everyone who was tagged. It was coordinated."  
  
"I don't want to be a conspiracy theorist, here," Tom said slowly, "but that sounds like some sort of military."  
  
"So does their budget," she said in agreement. "Where the hell would a civilian organization get some tech like that?"  
  
Tom grinned. "I don't know, Kate. Where _would_ a civilian organization get some tech like that?"  
  
Even in almost pitch dark, he could feel Kate rolling her eyes at him. "It doesn't come _cheap_ , let's just leave it at that. To outfit even a dozen of those guys, with the caliber of stuff they had, would be a cool million. _Easy_."  
  
"It doesn't make sense," Thomas said. "We've been at this for years now and these guys came out of left field. We heard something about them a few months ago, some rumors that people had gone missing, then suddenly they're breaking down our door and kidnapping our guys?"  
  
Kate exhaled a small laugh. "You're thinking if they're that well outfitted, with that big of a budget, we should have heard a lot more fuss before they crashed the club and took Eli. But what if we're just the first target?"  
  
Tom didn't answer at first. Trying to figure this out was causing his hungover (and not in a good way) head to ache. "I think we just need to get to the bottom of this and put a stop to it. This New Human Resistance bullshit is going to give all sapiens a bad name, which severely undermines all the work we're doing."  
  
There was a lingering silence after his statement, during which Thomas suspected he might have said something incorrectly, but after a while Kate just huffed out a soft laugh. "And your brother thinks you're not political."  
  
He grinned at that. "I love Will, but he's kind of dense sometimes. I was sneaking off to sapien rights rallies when he was still buying his damn charity t-shirts. He watches the news, claims to be politically minded, but he thinks his status gets in the way of him really _doing_ anything."  
  
"He plays by the _rules_ ," Kate pointed out.  
  
"Rules were made to be broken, Kate."  
  
She laughed again. "My point exactly."  
  
The rest of the trip through the tunnel was made in relative silence, the conversation dying down the further they went and the more their expectations of an actual ambush grew. Unlike the house that acted as a front of the human trafficking going on, the tunnel didn't seem to be wired or alarmed in any way, possibly because it was damn near impossible for the average person not kitted out like Batman to get through the house perimeter and into the basement to _find_ the tunnel's entrance.  
  
Eventually, after things sloped downhill and back uphill a few times and it began to feel like they were walking forever, the light cast by Tom's illuminating arrow was thrown over a wall at the far end of the tunnel. Kate, still acting as point, led the way to the heavy steel door built into the wall and inspected it, as she had so many other doors today, for traps and wires. When she determined it wasn't rigged to explode, she casually removed a detonation charge from her pocket and made sure it _was_ rigged to explode.  
  
Thomas ran them both a few yards back for safety and waited until he heard the first _boom_ of the charge exploding and the resulting _clang_ of steel hitting cement before running them both back. Kate hopped away from his grasp into the clearing smoke of the blown out door and ducked through the doorway, readying an arrow as she went.  
  
The next room was empty, but for a single set of stairs along one wall leading _up_ , and Kate followed them cautiously. By the time they emerged from the hatch at the top of the stairs into a similarly empty warehouse, Thomas was feeling led on and annoyed for taking things so damn _slow_. He knew, ultimately, that Kate was right to be cautious, but he wanted to find something -- _anything_ \-- rather than a big lot of Canadian nothing.  
  
"This way," Kate said, motioning him across the vacant warehouse and to a door that had been left slightly ajar. By the dim light filtering in through the high windows along all four walls, they had been underground long enough for the sun to begin setting. Outside, street lamps were casting spots of orange light in strategic places to brighten what the setting sun left dark.  
  
After taking a quick look outside, Kate made a disgusted noise. "We're in some sort of compound. Looks military. Lots of buildings like this, one armed sentry tower at three o'clock. We can sneak out when their searchlight sweeps west."  
  
Thomas nodded his agreement to the plan and let Kate take the lead. After watching the sentry tower do its sweep twice, Kate ducked out of the warehouse on the third iteration and Thomas followed. While the sentries were busy looking left, he and Kate went right, heading for the nearest building that would put them out of the tower's immediate line of sight.  
  
Before they made it halfway across the empty distance between one warehouse and the next, an alarm sounded through the entire compound. The tower swept its sentry light around and it hit them dead-on. In the distance, Thomas could hear the sound of barking dogs and the pounding of footsteps.  
  
 _Shit._  
  
Within seconds, they were surrounded on all sides by guards clad in black tactical gear, their faces covered from the nose down, and armed to the teeth.  
  
Before Thomas could so much as kick off for a run, one of the guards fired his tactical rifle and something hit Tom square in the chest, sending an excruciating electrical charge through his body. Screaming, he dropped to his knees and slumped forward a little, the painful weight resounding through his chest and dragging him down.  
  
"Tommy!" Kate shouted, backing right up against him and drawing her bowstring taut in preparation to fire. It was useless, Kate must have known that, but Tom found he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.  
  
"I'm okay," he insisted, struggling to his feet. His limbs felt sluggish, as if his brain wasn't speaking to them quickly enough, and he knew immediately that his powers were being inhibited. Tom pried the small device off his chest, but the spots of blood where the three short needles on the underside punctured his skin were the telltale sign of something being injected. Powers or no powers, he wasn't going to let Kate take on this many guys alone.  
  
"Kate," Thomas said, standing back to back with her and assessing their situation, "I need to tell you something."  
  
"Now isn't the best time, Tommy."  
  
 _Now_ might be the only time, he thought, even while his mouth kept going. "I love you."  
  
"I know," Kate snapped, as if frustrated with him for wasting what could be his last breath with something so damn obvious.  
  
"I've always -- " Tom brought himself up short, looking incredulous. "What?! _You know_?"  
  
"I'm not an idiot, Tommy," she said in a tone that suggested there would have been more softness in her voice, if not for the adrenaline. "I love you, too, but -- "  
  
" -- but Eli's my friend," he went on over top of her. "We were making a difference and I couldn't jeopardize that -- "  
  
Kate kept talking, too. " -- another time, another place -- "  
  
They both needed to get it out in the open, Thomas realized. She must have realized what he already knew about their odds, here. A dozen armed guards against the two would have been terrible odds if they both had powers and guns and cover to duck behind. A dozen armed guards against two powerless people, one of whom was armed only with a bow, was _suicide_.  
  
And instead of going down fighting, Kate turned and dragged him around to face her, pulling Tom into a sudden and heated kiss. He melted against her, hating himself for wanting this so badly and loving her even more for giving him this, at least, in the face of whatever shit they'd gotten themselves into. Kate really was the best.  
  
Around them, the circling guards lowered their weapons and some parted to one side, letting someone through the blockade. Thomas hardly noticed, until he sneering voice interrupted what he'd always imagined would be a _perfect_ moment with a snide greeting. "Good job, Miss Bishop."  
  
Immediately, Kate went limp against him and dropped to the ground before he could catch her, like a marionette with its strings cut.  
  
"Kate!"  Thomas dropped down to her side and gathered her wilted body into his arms, checking for a pulse -- for signs that she was breathing -- for _anything_. She wasn't dead, but she was as cold and lifeless as if she ought to have been.  
  
He looked up at the man who stood inside the now closed circle of armed guards, eyes narrowed threateningly. "What did you do to her!?"  
  
The man merely smiled. "I brought her back to herself, Prince Thomas. See?"  
  
Something about the sinister look in the man's eyes sent a chill, as cold as ice, down Thomas' spine. He tried not to shiver as he looked down at Kate again, only to find the woman in his arms was _not_ Kate at all. Instead, she had the distinctive green skin and alien features of a _Skrull_.  
  
  


\--

  
  
_  
_After Kate's declaration that they hadn't seen each other for months, William abruptly ended the call and set his service to send all future calls straight to voicemail. Anella voiced the question that had stunned him into silent action -- _What did she mean by that?_ \-- but he found he had no logical explanation for it. Yes, it had been a while since he'd seen Kate before last week, but hadn't Thomas been in New York frequently the last few months? How could she have failed to see Thomas on that many separate occasions, especially if he really only ever seemed interested in seeing _her_ when he was in town? And how could Kate _forget_ something like what happened at the club so short a time ago?  
  
"I don't know," William eventually answered Anella's question, having let it go for so long it practically felt rhetorical by the time he managed to speak.  
  
Anella looked as concerned by his confusion as William himself was. "Do you believe something bad has happened to your brother?" she finally asked, hesitantly broaching the subject William scarcely wanted to think about.  
  
"Yes," he answered, rubbing at his forehead. "We got into some trouble in New York when we were there last week. I didn't want to tell my mom, because she thought I was still in Genosha when it happened."  
  
"What sort of trouble?"  
  
He took a deep breath and tried to think of a way to explain the delicate political situation. "The nightclub we were at was attacked by a group of terrorists who were after Kate's boyfriend. They took him and a few others, knocked Thomas out, and gave me and Kate one hell of a fight."  
  
"I had no idea you were a warrior," Anella observed, clearly attempting to inject a small amount of levity into the uncomfortable confusion they were both experiencing. Her smile was that secretive one William had come to _like_ , since it always felt like she reserved it for something special between the two of them.  
  
William couldn't help but laugh, at least a little and to alleviate his growing nervous tension. "I'm not, I was terrible. I held my ground, but just barely. After it happened, Kate seemed pretty nonchalant about it. I mean, for someone whose boyfriend was just kidnapped by terrorists, she was really relaxed and said she had people who could take care of it. Less than eight hours later, I was on my way to Skrullos."  
  
"So you do not know what happened," she finished.  
  
"Yeah," he agreed. "Thomas was still asleep when I left. I figured he'd stay in New York until Kate's people turned something up and be back by the time I got home. With him gone and Kate not remembering what happened, I know something has to be wrong. She has amnesia or had her memory wiped or _something_."  
  
Anella reached down and took both of William's hands in her own, offering him a reassuring smile. "We can look for him together, William. Teleport us to New York."  
  
Her smile was so damned _hopeful_ William could hardly stand it. As much as he hated to disobey his mother, as much as he still so desperately wanted to be the son she wished he would be, he felt an overwhelming amount of concern for Thomas that could not be satisfied by sitting on the sidelines and doing _nothing_. Call it twin's intuition or neurosis or whatever, but Will _knew_ something bad had happened to his brother, he _knew_ that Tom needed his help.  
  
"Okay," William finally agreed, unable to stop himself from smiling when Anella's own smile blossomed into a grin. "But we need to look a little less -- "  
  
"Formal?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Though he seemed to be missing the jacket of his uniform and shoes, no doubt removed to make him more comfortable after his blackout, William still figured he'd stick out like a sore thumb in New York City dressed like, well, _Prince William of Genosha_. While Anella could blend in as any run of the mill homo superior even without Skrull shapeshifting ability, she certainly wasn't going to do anything of the sort dressed like a member of the imperial family. He prescribed jeans and t-shirts for the both of them -- of which he had many, with no real opportunity to wear them _out_ \-- complete with scarves and hats for added inconspicuousness.  
  
"I like this," Anella decided, looking a bit waifish in the borrowed clothes, especially from under the brim of a flat cap.  
  
"You, uh, look like a guy," William pointed out. He was just a _little_ uncomfortable with how much he actually liked that, because that was kind of weird. Right? Right. Definitely.  
  
Anella didn't seem to mind. In fact, somehow she seemed to enjoy the suggestion, in a way William wasn't sure he should dwell on. "I do?"  
  
"Er. Yeah. Sort of," he answered.  
  
Before William knew what was happening, they'd both bridged the rather short distance between them and were suddenly mere inches from actually _kissing_. It was weird and yet it wasn't, some sort of uncanny mixture of curiosity and obligation and a tiny bit of potential _desire_ to actually do so tugging him ever closer. Was it wrong to want to? Was it wrong to want to after the realization he just had about her appearance?  
  
No. And _yes_. And --  
  
Before their lips could actually touch, close enough to just share a breath in a moment of hesitation on either of their parts, the unmistakable sound of a sonic boom rattled the windows of William's bedroom. They both pulled apart guiltily and William hurried to the balcony doors when he was finally jarred to his senses, realizing only two people permitted on the palace grounds by the security field could possibly create a sonic boom. He threw the doors open and rushed out onto the balcony, Anella's footsteps right behind him.  
  
"Tom!" William called out over grounds, seeing dirt and grass kicked up by a speedster's messy grinding halt in the garden below.  
  
It _was_ Thomas, he could tell by the figure's height, but the next move made him second-guess his original assessment entirely.  
  
William shouted for Anella to get down as soon as he saw Thomas raise both arms in preparation for targeted molecular destabilization. Seconds later, the balcony burst apart in a shower of debris, chunks of heavy stone falling free of the edge of the building and three whole floors to the ground. His stomach dropped out when the floor beneath his feet gave way, then everything was a confused blur of rubble and shouting.  
  
Nothing landed on either him or Anella, thankfully, but the moment the dust settled from the balcony collapse and just as they were beginning to try to pick themselves up, Thomas rushed over in a blur of speed and grabbed Anella up from the rubble. If it wasn't for the spiteful glint in Thomas' eye, William would have been relieved to have his brother's assistance, even if he was the one to collapse the balcony in the first place. Rather than lend a helpful _anything_ , Thomas threw Anella up against a large chunk of stone, prompting a weak groan from the girl and sending William scrambling to his feet to stop his brother from hurting her further.  
  
It registered with him that Thomas was speaking, saying _something_ , but the words lacked the form and substance of _English_ and it just sounded like guttural noises to William's ears.  
  
"Tom, st -- " In the split-second between the first part of his command and the last, William was whisked away from the immediate area and slammed bodily against the thick trunk of a nearby tree, the jolt of pain through his shoulder interrupting his plea and weakening it considerably. He was left to slump to his knees in the wake of the injury, feeling momentarily helpless to watch Thomas grab Anella up by the front of her shirt and fling her across the garden like a rag doll.  
  
William struggled to his feet and surged forward, intent on putting himself in the middle ground between his brother and Anella even as Thomas raised his arms for another directed molecular destabilization. The force of the hyperkinetic vibrations slamming into the shield William threw up between him and the attack slammed him back several feet into Anella. His shielding flickered momentarily as the two of them nearly tripped, giving Thomas ample opportunity to try another wave of vibrations designed to explode them both.  
  
As Thomas battered his weakening shield, inching him back little by little and causing his feet to dig into the groundas he tried to keep himself from being pushed, William readied a counter-attack. He wasn't sure what would happen when a lightning bolt met a wave of hyperkinetic energy, but he was willing to bet it wasn't pretty.  
  
The resulting explosion threw them both apart by yards, slamming Thomas back into the pile of balcony rubble and William into Anella again, all three of them caught up in the energy blast. The force of his and Anella's catapulted bodies dug a shallow crated into the ground as they skidded to a stop more than twenty feet away.   
  
When the dust settled, Thomas wasn't moving, but William's primary concern was Anella. He rolled to one side and tried to catch his breath as he crawled onto the grass next to the small ditch their combined mass created. From below, he heard a groan and weak cough, prompting first relief and then, when he reached for Anella, utter confusion.  
  
She wasn't there.  
  
In her place was a badly bruised and bloodied young man, looking as worse for wear as William's smoldering clothes told him he must have been. The man's skin was pale and his features were remarkably human.  
  
"Who are you?" William demanded, jerking the man up from the ground by the front of his tattered shirt. "Where's Anella?"  
  
The stranger struggled to breathe, choking and coughing on his own words, and said something William could barely hear. It was more a wheeze than an actual word.  
  
"Tell me!" William shouted.  
  
"D-Dorrek," the man finally managed to get out between harsh breaths. "I am Dorrek."  
  
It was a hard left hook that had William reeling on his feet. When he focused, when he really _looked_ past his concern for Anella to take it all in, the man could have really been Prince Dorrek. His skin was a pinkish white, lacking the green pigmentation Will associated with Skrulls, but his blond hair and the earrings he wore were exactly the same. Exactly the same as Anella's, but exactly the same as Dorrek's, as well.  
  
His grasp on the front of the shirt he hardly recognized as the one Anella borrowed minutes before tightened in a threatening fashion. "Where is she?" It just didn't compute for him, his brain just didn't want to accept what he was seeing and process it logically.  
  
Though his wounds were healing at an exponential rate, bruises fading and cuts closing as mere seconds ticked by, Dorrek seemed hesitant to speak on the whereabouts of his sister. His expression became distressed, the more threatening William became, until he finally broke. "There ... there is _no_ Anella."  
  
"You're lying!" Will shouted, hauling Dorrek closer in a way he could only hope was menacing.  
  
Dorrek, however, was hardly threatened. The distress -- the _sorrow --_ in his expression only multiplied. "I am sorry, William."  
  
At that, William dropped Dorrek back to the ground and stumbled back a step, sitting heavily in the loose dirt and debris. He didn't know what to make of this and his brain refused to process the confusing pile of information now threatening to overload all logical thought processes. First Kate's amnesia, then Thomas' attack, and now Anella.  
  
The sound of the palatial alarms hardly registered with him, but they had been blaring since Thomas' initial attack on the balcony. Everything had happened so fast, but the Red Guard still had an unbelievable response time. In the back of his mind, William knew they should not linger in the aftermath of this violence to meet them, as the resulting confusion would put Anella -- _Dorrek_ \-- in danger, but in the shock of the moment, he found he was not listening to the voice in the back of his mind.  
  
Thankfully, Dorrek seemed to be.  
  
William was pulled to his feet and almost immediately swept off them to be cradled against Dorrek's broad chest. He hardly seemed to notice what was happening for several long moments, until he finally blinked awareness back into his mind and realized the ground had disappeared. They were in the air. The downward sweep of air current beneath the canopy of huge wings kept blowing his unruly hair back from his face and as strange as it was, William felt more comforted by the simplicity of it than he thought possible.  
  
Dorrek, again, looked like William anticipated him looking, with green skin and an imposing build, but with the uncanny addition of _wings_ and _flight_. His mind wasn't up to the task of processing it, so he simply refused to. The breeze was cool and he didn't feel threatened.  
  
When they finally stopped, when his feet finally touched stable ground again, William found they were standing miles from the palace, on the end of a disused industrial pier in Hammer Bay. He could see the lights of the familiar city reflected across the surface of the water and the sound of gulls was comfortingly familiar.  
  
Without the necessity for it, Dorrek's wings melted into his back and he shrank down to his strange, vaguely human appearance, taking a step back from William to give him room to breathe. Between Thomas' attack and shifting into his more imposing Skrull form, the clothes Anella -- _Dorrek_ \-- had been wearing were hanging in tatters from his body. He looked less waifish than Anella had, filling out the remnants of the men's clothes more fully, but something about shredded attire made him seem altogether more _pathetic_ than William assumed a Skrull prince should.  
  
The silence between them stretched out for a few minutes, until William opted to seat himself right on the end of the dock and hang his feet over the edge. Without prompting, Dorrek joined him.  
  
"So," William began, once his mind had time to process bits and pieces of what had happened, "Anella -- "  
  
"Never existed," Dorrek answered simply.  
  
The idea hurt, in a weird way, and William answered before he could stop himself: "I _really_ hated you back on Skrullos."  
  
Dorrek glanced over at him, confused for a few seconds. "You hated Dorrek on Skrullos. I was myself only once, when you first arrived, but after that Dorrek was a trusted body guard of the royal family. He chaperoned me -- _us_ \-- to make sure I wouldn't give away the truth to you."  
  
At first, the use of a contraction threw him off guard. Dorrek's English was better than Anella's. Except Dorrek's English _was_ Anella's. Maybe it was formality they just couldn't get past without a life-threatening situation. When he finally stopped to think about what Dorrek actually _said_ , it made sense, he guessed, but only in a small way. On Skrullos, Dorrek seemed so overbearing, so _abusive_ , toward Anella. After a long moment of trying to discern a rhyme or reason for the deception, he simply asked, "Why?"  
  
Beside him, Dorrek took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, as if he had nerves that needed to be calmed before he could speak. Weirdly, William could see Anella being nervous, but not Dorrek, as his mind refused to make the leap that everything he knew about Anella was actually true for Dorrek himself.  
  
"Protection," the other prince finally answered. "And punishment, I guess."  
  
"Punishment," William breathed out. He was staring at the water, trying to focus his attention on something simple while the pieces of the puzzle came together for him.  
  
"When I was a hatchling, I looked like this," Dorrek explained, prompting William to glance briefly over at him again, almost against his will. "It's my base form, my _true_ form, and it disgusts so many on Skrullos. I look like my father, I look like a _Kree_ , I look like the people they've come to hate after thousands of years of war. And worse yet, I wouldn't change."  
  
Gradually, as Dorrek's story continued, William looked less and less at the water, giving the prince his full attention over time. At first, it was hard to see a stranger where he had come to anticipate Anella being, but all the mannerisms were there if he just stopped to pay attention. The inflection of her voice, though much lower now, and the hint of sarcasm behind some of her words. And, when Dorrek saw he finally had William's attention, that little secret smile he had grown to like so well.  
  
"Why was it bad that you wouldn't change?" he finally asked, only the lingering confusion of the whole evening preventing him from smiling back.  
  
"Every Skrull changes, William. To look imposing, to mate, or just for something different from time to time. But I like my skin, I like being who I am, I've never seen the _point_." Dorrek shrugged and exhaled a wistful little sigh. "I guess, inside, Skrulls are fluid and _okay_ being something different when the situation calls for it, but I'm not like that instinctively. I'd rather change my perspective than my physical form."  
  
As the explanation progressed, William pulled his legs from over the edge of the dock and turned to face Dorrek, sitting tailor fashion facing the prince. "You are who you are," he pointed out, remembering the conversation they had earlier that prompted him into action after his mother's tirade.  
  
Dorrek smiled again. "This is who I am, but my grandfather never approved. He wanted a strong Skrull heir, not a weak Kree grandson, so I made myself look like he wanted me to. Sort of. I refused to compromise and look _fully_ Skrull and it always bothered him. He hated seeing me with my hair like this or without my ears -- " Dorrek made a vague motion that William understood to mean _pointy_.  
  
Against his better judgment, William actually laughed. And while Dorrek did seem put a bit at ease by the shared joke, it was obvious his nervousness was mounting when he stumbled over his words as he continued. "When he found out I was attracted to men, he made me change again. He didn't mind having a woman as his heir, if I was attracted to males for mating purposes, but he didn't -- " Dorrek stopped, confusion and sadness etched into his features.  
  
"But he didn't understand that wanting to be with other men didn't mean that deep down you're really a woman," William finished. "Or that you _have_ to be."  
  
Dorrek looked up from his turn staring down at the water when William's hand touched his own and smiled, albeit shakily. "I _hated_ being Anella. When they told me I was being mated to you for a treaty, they expected me to be _happy_. Like I was getting everything I wanted, being a woman and having a man to mate with and being sent two and half million light-years away to be a weird Kree away from the empire. I think my grandfather was secretly pleased that he was putting me in a situation where I'd have to stay in one form I hated _so much_."  
  
"That's so cruel," William said, the hurt look in Dorrek's eyes tugging sharply at his heartstrings. "You shouldn't be punished for who you are, Dorrek."  
  
"I'm sorry I lied to you," Dorrek went on, his deep breaths now obviously meant to stem the tide of tears. "I hated doing it. I wanted to tell you so many times before now, but someone was always _there_ on Skrullos and before I left I was told that if I didn't cooperate, if I was caught lying to the House of Magnus, I would be executed and the empire would be pulled into another war. I knew you would probably understand, William, but I was ... I was _scared_."  
  
William couldn't stand it anymore by the time Dorrek looked truly on the verge of tears and he bridged the distance between them to pull Dorrek into what he hoped was a comforting embrace. It was different than holding Anella, as he ended up doing during their return trip, and yet _not_. Dorrek's head rested on his shoulder the same way Anella's had, only a little heavier, and Dorrek's scent was exactly the same. The arms that wound around William's waist were muscular and strong, a far cry from Anella's considerably slighter build, but it was a reassurance all the same that his gesture was welcome.  
  
"It's okay," he reassured softly. "None of that's going to happen, Dorrek. I promise you."  
  
All it seemed to take to prevent further tears from falling was that reassurance and William gently stroking Dorrek's back through the tattered remnants of his shirt. After a long enough time, Dorrek pulled away with a start. "Thanks," he said briefly, making an effort to pull himself together. "I ... I know we're mated on Skrullos, but we don't have to get married here. Or ... or if you wanted, I could be Anella for you -- or maybe -- "  
  
"Dorrek," William said gently. This was where he needed to admit his own truth, he knew, but there were so many more important things going on. How could he have a legitimate heart to heart right now, with his brother going _crazy_ and Kate probably _mind wiped_? "We don't have to talk about it right now. Trust me when I say everything will be okay. We'll find a way to fix this. But first, we need to figure out what happened to Thomas. He tried to _kill_ you and that's not like my brother."  
  
"No," Dorrek said with a shake of his head. "That wasn't your brother at all, William."


	5. On the Longest Night

For one shining moment Thomas thought that maybe, just maybe, he would wake up to find he'd passed out on the bathroom floor, rather than in a comfortable hotel bed, and had the strangest dream. As it turned out, however, the cold, hard floor beneath him was cement and the room he opened his eyes to was dark and smelled damp.  
  
It wasn't a dream, then, but he couldn't remember much leading up to how he arrived in the room. The _cell_.  
  
He remembered that Kate had been in his arms. Her skin was green, she was a Skrull. There was a horrible burning feeling at the back of his neck, then darkness.  
  
His stiff, aching muscles protested, but Thomas turned his head and lifted one hand to touch the spot on the back of his neck from which the burning in his memory originated. Under his fingertips, his skin was raised and angry in two specific spots, hot and painful to the touch. He sucked in a sharp breath and moved his hand to his face, instead, trying to rub feeling back into his numb nose and wakefulness into his heavy eyelids.  
  
On the far side of the small room, opposite of where he lay, a heavy metal door was set into the cement wall. It looked familiar, like the door he and Kate both had to work at pulling open, after the long and winding tunnel from Rouses Point to, according to Kate's GPS, somewhere south of Montreal. He didn't know if it was good luck or misfortune to potentially be in the same place. The New Human Resistance's base of operations, or so they had figured.  
  
So _he_ had figured, that is. If Kate was a Skrull, if the NHR could control her somehow, then maybe this had all been a set-up. To get Eli. To get him. He had no idea how they might have figured out either of them were pivotal to anything vaguely political. On the surface, Eli was just a dealer and Tom was just a playboy prince without a care in the world. Beneath all that, of course, they were connected by illegal activities human rights activists routinely praised. But they were also an unlikely partnership, something they figured that no one would be able to unravel, but maybe they had underestimated this new element.  
  
Truth be told, Kate -- Skrull Kate -- had been right. There were nothing but _rumors_ about these terrorists, nothing substantiated, until their raid on the nightclub. They couldn't really be faulted for underestimating something that didn't seem like a real _threat_.  
  
Now that it was all said and done, it was only a matter of what the NHR decided to do with them. Eli, he knew, was already hurt -- or worse. They knew to cut the tracking device out of him, possibly because Skrull Kate told them where it was located, but was it only planted in that basement to lure Tom even further? What about Cassie and the others the NHR tagged at the nightclub? Why were they using a MGH lab as a front for their human trafficking into Canada?  
  
None of this made sense.  
  
Tom closed his eyes and reached down to lay his hand over the blood-splotched area of his shirt. He'd been shot last night (or the night before, who knew how long he'd been out this time), but not with a bullet. Whatever it was, whatever it injected him with, inhibited his powers. He felt like he wasn't thinking fast enough, like he wasn't _breathing_ fast enough, like the whole world had slowed to a sickening crawl and he was helpless to do anything to speed it up again. Without his powers, with his reaction time down to something like average (or, he thought, maybe even _below average_ ), he had no hope of escaping on his own. He couldn't accelerate the molecules in the wall, he couldn't outrun the guards, he couldn't go supersonic and get back to Genosha in under a minute flat.  
  
He wondered how Kate -- the _real_ Kate -- did it on a daily basis. How she kept up with all the homo superiors around her and didn't miss a beat. Without his powers, he felt _weak_ , but Tom wondered if never having relied on a mutation before gave homo sapiens the upper hand. The bar was raised to homo superior standards, but when homo sapiens went above that, it was because of strength and dedication and never giving up for anything, especially odds that couldn't possibly be in your favor.  
  
Slowly, purposefully, Tom rolled onto his side and pushed himself up to a sitting position. Pain shot through his neck and his head swam dizzily, but after a long moment of waiting for the room to focus, it did. Four cement walls and a metal door. There were no windows and none of the usual fixtures of a prison cell. Just an empty room.  
  
As he sat there, he began to take stock of what he had beyond speedster powers that were currently inhibited. He trained with the Red Guard. Even without speed, he knew how to break practically every bone in the human body. He could shoot a gun, if he could get his hands on one, and was accurate enough with a knife. If he could calm down and _think_ past the distraction of feeling slow, then he might just be able to make a break for it after all. It just came down to timing and accuracy and as much good luck as he thought he was _due_ after the past few days.  
  
Just as he was beginning to contemplate picking himself up off the floor and testing out his legs, the heavy lock set into the metal door turned over and the door itself swung outwards into a dimly lit hallway. The figure standing on the threshold of the room was backlit by the lighting and, at first, Tom couldn't tell who it was. Only when a pair of guards came in to haul him to his feet and drag him out into the light of the corridor did he realize: _Kate_.  
  
Not Kate. _Skrull_ Kate.  
  
Her skin was green, her ears pointed and chin ridged, and she wore the distinct skin-tight uniform all Skrulls seemed to. But beneath it all, she still kept the same features as Kate Bishop. The same eyes, same lips, same hair.  
  
"Sorry, Tommy," the Skrull said in Kate's voice, sounding as apologetic as Kate sometimes -- rarely -- sounded. "I didn't have a choice."  
  
He narrowed his eyes at the imposter. " _Don't_ speak so familiarly to me!" Tom demanded. "I am Prince Thomas of Genosha. I am being held against my will by hostile alien forces. This _is_ an act of war and my family will not hesitate to -- "  
  
Before he could finish the threat, a sharp pain shot through him. The guard to his left had pressed a shock baton into his back, right against his kidney, and the sudden burst of agony brought him to his knees.  
  
Above him, Kate's voice was screaming the sort of threats he could imagine Kate actually screaming. When the pain died down, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, then another under his arm, helping him to his feet. Tom couldn't understand how it happened, but he found himself leaning into the Skrull imposter for support. Rather than hand him back over to the guards, she walked him slowly down the corridor, flanked by the guards as escort.  
  
"My family -- " Tom tried to finish, but his throat was hoarse from screaming.  
  
" -- will kill me," she finished for him. "I know. I hope to God they do."  
  
The statement, from Tom's perspective, was too complex to comprehend. Instead, he focused on the fact that he was putting one foot in front of the other, almost involuntarily, to keep up with the imposter Kate as she walked. Down the corridor they went, at an agonizingly slow pace, toward a set of double doors. Every ounce of logical thought in his head told him to do something, to break free and wrestle a gun off one of the guards and shoot his way out, but everything _hurt_ too much. So much for not giving up when all odds were against him.  
  
Through the double doors was a large room mostly shrouded in darkness. In the center was a spot of overhead light, around which several shadowy figures were gathered.

"It's better if you're not awake for this," the imposter told him as something sharp pricked at his neck. Tom was so busy staring in confusion at the room that he missed whatever it was he was given.  
  
"This isn't over," slurred Tom, less threatening than he could have imagined.  
  
"It's just beginning," the Skrull answered.  
  
Before Tom could respond, darkness overtook his vision and his legs crumbled beneath him.  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
The disused pier in the industrial end of Hammer Bay was quiet for a moment following Dorrek's assertion about Prince Thomas. At first, William wasn't sure what to say. He didn't know what Dorrek was suggesting, didn't like the idea that someone could impersonate his brother well enough to fool the palace's perimeter security field _and_ the Red Guard, and could not articulate all the questions that sprang to mind.  
  
Ultimately, William didn't get the chance to ask _anything_. The silence was cut by another sonic boom, prompting Dorrek to sweep William into his arms again, in the midst of another transformation, and take to the sky on expansive wings once more. With neither hesitation nor thought, William transported them right out of the sky.  
  
And into the impressive living room of Kate Bishop's Manhattan condo.  
  
Being outside at night one moment and in a sunny room the next was so surprising that Dorrek dropped to his feet with a thud, wings clumsily knocking into a bookshelf on one side and a vase of flowers on the other. The resounding, watery crash of the vase breaking on hardwood brought Kate running from her bedroom just as Dorrek was shrinking back to a less disconcerting shape and size.  
  
"William Maximoff," Kate greeted sternly, though a great deal more calm than _most_ people would be when confronted with such unexpected guests and household destruction. "I believe you have some explaining to do, Your Highness!"  
  
Dorrek reluctantly set William down on his own two feet, still no doubt battling with the feelings of danger associated with being half a world away, then dropped down to quietly start collecting the shards of glass and flowers from the broken vase. "I apologize for this," he stated. "I -- "  
  
"It was my fault," interjected Will as he stooped down to help. "We, uh. We have a problem, Kate."  
  
"You're damn right we do!" she agreed. Her annoyance was softened by the sight of them both cleaning up the mess. After a brief detour to the kitchen, she returned with a bag for the glass shards and a towel for the water that had been in the bottom of the vase. "What's going on, Will? You confused the hell out of me earlier on the phone. Now you show up with some guy, looking like you've both been in a fight."  
  
Kate opened the bag to receive the shards of broken glass Dorrek picked up, offering him the sort of smile she wasn't prepared to give Will as of yet. "And who are you?"  
  
"I am Prince Dorrek of Skrullos," he answered.  
  
Simultaneously, Will explained, " -- my mate." When Kate raised both eyebrows at him, he clarified, "Fiance. You know how I said earlier I went to Skrullos? It was kind of to get a ... well, a husband?"  
  
"Kind of?" Kate questioned, not so much incredulous about the subject of Will _getting_ a husband as she was about the way he _described_ it.  
  
"Well, no. I was supposed to get a wife." _A Skrullwife,_ Will remembered Tom joking.  
  
Kate looked even more confused by this. "And ... what? There was a mix-up at the store, but it's just too far to drive to make a return?"  
  
After saying it aloud, Kate apparently realized how inadvertently rude she sounded and offered Dorrek an apologetic smile. "No offense. I'm just surprised. I mean -- it's very progressive. For the House of Magnus."  
  
Dorrek seemed to be politely bewildered by the rapid-fire exchange of things he only half understood about Earth culture. After indicating he took no offense, he collected up the flowers into a neat bouquet and presented them to Kate. "I apologize about the mess."  
  
While Kate smiled and looked on the verge of recanting her potentially disapproving view in light of how _polite_ William's 'mate' seemed to be, Will grabbed the towel and began mopping up the water. "My grandfather doesn't know. Yet. We're crossing that bridge when we get there. Anyway, we're here about something else, Kate. Another problem -- a bigger problem. Have you spoken to Eli?"  
  
The way William saw it, if Kate hadn't spoken to him or Thomas in months, or at least didn't remember it, then she may remember something about Eli. Or, at best, have figured out by now that Eli was missing.  
  
Kate laughed with genuine amusement, as if William had asked something inadvertently funny. "Not yet, Will. I just got home. Didn't I tell you I was gone this month? My sister decided to get married in Thailand, spur of the moment, and I had to organize most of it to keep Daddy from having a fit."  
  
"Kate," Will said desperately, "I _swear to God_ we just saw each other a week ago. I came to New York with Tom before I left for Skrullos."  
  
"Perhaps whomever is impersonating your brother has also been impersonating her?" Dorrek wondered, drawing both the attention and gaping confusion of the two humans. He smiled nervously and got to his feet again. "It was a Skrull, William. Impersonating your brother."  
  
Will stood, too. "Why would a Skrull be impersonating my brother and breaking into the palace? We just signed a treaty. You and I were _collateral_ for that treaty, Dorrek."  
  
That piece of information seemed to cause all the pieces to fit together for Kate, as if she had been altogether more confused as to why William had gone to an alien planet to marry a woman in the first place than the fact that he came back engaged to a _man_. "There's someone impersonating Tom? _And_ me?"  
  
"Not just impersonating," explained Dorrek. "They copied Prince Thomas genetically and that Skrull _became_ him. He has more than just your brother's face, William. He has your brother's memories. His abilities. They might have done the same for her." At this, he motioned to Kate.  
  
"But why?" Will demanded. "Who are _they_?"  
  
"I do not think the Skrull impersonating your brother was sanctioned by my grandfather," Dorrek rushed a little to speak and ease any hostilities that might arise from the suggestion. "My grandfather may not like me, but he still claims me as his own blood. The Skrull who attacked me called me an abomination and said even the _traitorous_ side of the royal lineage needed to be cleansed."  
  
The saddened expression Dorrek wore to admit both to his grandfather's dislike of him again so soon and to his potentially inflammatory parentage struck Will in such a way that he felt compelled to reach out and take Dorrek's hand in his own. He gave a gentle squeeze of reassurance and smiled softly when Dorrek returned the gesture. "Who could possibly be behind this, Dorrek?" he wondered, gentling his voice to something much less frantic than it had been. "Who would say something like that to you?"  
  
The prince took a deep breath and shook his head, looking down at the wet towel at their feet. "I don't know. Our family is large and complicated, William. My grandfather's brother was exiled after trying to take the throne by force, but he's dead now. His only son holds no ill will toward my grandfather or my parents."  
  
"Is there anyone else still on the outs?" Kate wondered.  
  
When Dorrek looked up with confusion, Will helpfully supplied, with less colloquialism, "Is there anyone else still in exile?"  
  
The confused look persisted on Dorrek's face as he thought about the question. "Only Princess Veranke. But she was exiled to a barren world before I was born."  
  
"But is there any chance she could be here?" asked Kate.  
  
"I don't know. The one who attacked us spoke to me in _Frti_ ," Dorrek admitted. He gave Will's hand another squeeze. "It is the dialect used by the _Dard'van_. I know Princess Veranke was exiled because my grandfather would not martyr her for her religious cause. The _Dard'van_ believe a great destruction will befall the Skrull empire and, as a result, the empire will -- make Earth its new home."  
  
That, William thought, sounded uncannily similar to an invasion. Rather than react immediately to the idea, however, he forced himself to remain calm. Kate seemed less intent on remaining calm at the idea of planetary invasion, but William spoke before she could. "So," he stated slowly, "it's possible she could be here?"  
  
"Yes, but -- I don't think the Skrull impersonating Thomas was sent to the palace to harm me, specifically."  
  
"Why else would he have been sent?" Will wondered, though he could already imagine the answer and it sent a small chill down his spine. The imposter chased them to Hammer Bay, no doubt after coming to, so Will can't imagine his family was in any immediate danger when they left. The Red Guard was called in, the entire palace locked down. Despite infiltration by a Skrull dissident, the palace was the safest place for his family to be.  
  
Dorrek drew William protectively closer, despite their relatively safe surroundings. "No one on Earth yet knows about us. About the arranged ... _marriage_." It was almost impossible not to smile, despite the seriousness of the discussion, at the way Dorrek caught himself on that last word, replacing 'mating' with the term William preferred on Skrullos when they first met. "I believe that imposter was sent to infiltrate your family. But his baser instincts, his hatred for the Kree, overpowered his mission when he obtained Thomas' knowledge about me."  
  
"You're probably right," William agreed.  
  
Kate glanced between the two of them, then pulled out her phone and began scrolling through her contacts list for Eli's number. When it went straight to voicemail, she pulled up her GPS application to hone in on his tracking device. The device blinked as offline. "But what does this have to do with Eli?" she finally, impatiently, demanded.  
  
"The New Human Resistance raided the club last weekend," Will explained. "They tagged Eli and a few others, then teleported them out. You -- the you that was there -- wasn't even that worried about it. I had to leave for Skrullos, but I figured you and Tom could handle it. Now he's missing, impersonated by a Skrull, and it looks like you were, too. I don't know if it's the NHR we're dealing with, here."  
  
Kate's jaw was set, her expression stern. "Will. You need to locate Eli. You need to locate Tommy. Then you need to call in the Red Guard. This isn't something you and I can handle by ourselves."  
  
"If my _brother_ is a Skrull, Kate, who else could they have gotten to?" he demanded. "They got to _you_ somehow and you don't even remember! We can't call the Red Guard. We can't call anyone we'd normally call."  
  
Despite the fact that William made a valid point, Kate still argued, "But how do we know we can even trust each other? If we've already gone far enough to distrust everyone else on the assumption anyone could be an imposter, how do we know we are who we say we are? How do you know _I'm_ not still a Skrull right now?"  
  
"I don't," William admits. "But I'm willing to trust you. All I ask is that you trust me. The more people we involve, the more complicated it gets."  
  
Kate was silent for a long moment, then nodded. "Locate Eli and Tommy. I'll get you two something to wear."  
  
Once she was gone, William breathed a sigh of relief and turned to face Dorrek again, only to find Dorrek wearing an expression of concern. "I'm sorry about that," Will apologized, assuming they probably offended him with their argument on trust. "I'm not upset you weren't honest about who you are, Dorrek. I'm -- okay, I was kind of sad to find out that Anella isn't real, but that was before I realized the things I knew and liked about her were things about _you_. I know we hardly know each other and I know this wasn't what you wanted when you came to Earth with me, but I trust you. And I hope you can trust me, too."  
  
"It isn't that," Dorrek protested, though he did smile a little at William's speech.  
  
"You can stay here," insisted William upon making another assumption. "Kate and I will go alone."  
  
"No," Dorrek answered. He pulled William close again, then slowly into an hesitant embrace. "I want to go with you. I want to make sure you're safe. I can help."  
  
It was only a little awkward, William found, if only because he wasn't quite sure where to put his arms. Finally, he decided on winding them around Dorrek and returning the embrace. "Then what is it?"  
  
"You injured yourself when you tried to locate your brother earlier. Will you be safe doing so again?"  
  
Though he was worried about whatever had kept him from finding Thomas previously, William didn't want Dorrek to worry, maybe needlessly, about him. "I'll be fine. I'm prepared for it now."  
  
"Good," Dorrek decided. "I will hold you and make sure you don't float away."  
  
William smiled at that. "Thank you."  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
_The garden is bright and warm. It is a summer afternoon. He walks slowly, following his brother and their nanny, watching his feet tromp across the short grass.  
  
His shoelace is untied and grass-stained from being stepped on. He stoops down in the grass and grabs an end of the shoelace in either hand, mumbling the rhyme his nanny taught him as he ties it with the sloppy, over-exaggerated movements of a child. Over, under, around.  
  
When he gets up and looks around, William is alone in the garden. He is almost never alone, but it doesn't frighten him. Rebecca will come back to find him soon.  
  
He walks along the edge of the red mulch trim of the flower bed, tiny hand brushing against the soft petals of flowers as he watches his feet and the grass and the drooping leaves of the plants. A butterfly lands on one such leaf and William stops to watch. He drops down to a crouch, until he's eye level with the insect, and watches as it folds and unfolds its wings. Like it's stretching.  
  
William smiles and carefully reaches out his hand, building a bridge between himself and the leaf to inspire the butterfly to crawl across to him.  
  
Instead, it flutters its wings and flies away. He turns to follow its path, a bubble of excited laughter rising to his lips, only to be stopped short by the brilliant display of light across the garden. It looks like a hundred butterflies, a thousand, fluttering away in the breeze.  
  
He is excited and exhilarated. He runs all the way over to the source of the bright light. His mother is standing stock still in the middle of the garden's gazebo, her arm outstretched. The deep crimson fabric of her gown hangs long from her arm, almost to the floor, and her dark curls are wind-swept. She is beautiful and powerful, like the sorceress from his favorite fairytale.  
  
"Mommy!" William exclaims with a child's wonder and innocence. "Did you see the butterflies?"  
  
Wanda whirls on him immediately, a wild look of alarm and fury in her eyes. "William!" she answers, her voice panicked. "What are you doing here? I did not summon you!"  
  
He is confused. He is sad. He stops mid-climb up the gazebo steps and sits back on the stone sidewalk leading up to them. Before he can stop himself, before he can remember to be brave, William is crying huge tears. He forgot. He made Mommy angry.  
  
Rebecca is there within moments, scooping William up into her arms and asking if he is hurt. Did he fall? Did he bump his knee?  
  
He doesn't answer. He loops his tiny arms around her neck and hides his face against her shoulder. He is hurt, but he knows it's nothing his nanny can kiss better.  
  
  
_

 _

\--

_

_  
  
_  
William awoke with a small start, gasping in a breath of air as if startled by the realization that he had just experienced a very vivid dream. A very vivid _nightmare_.  
  
As awareness seeped back into his body, Will came to the realization that he was still wrapped up in the warmth of Dorrek's embrace with his face buried against Dorrek's shoulder as he had done in his nightmarish dream of a dim childhood memory. Though his eyes were open when he raised his head, it was still as dark as when he had them closed, and through the confusion of sleep he finally realized they were no longer standing, but lying together in a remarkably comfortable bed.  
  
By the sounds of the room around them and of the city beyond the highrise windows, it was well into the night.  
  
The way he jerked out of sleep and looked around in confusion alerted Dorrek to the fact that Will was awake. He stroked a large, warm hand down Will's surprisingly bare back. The touch was unexpected and Will gasped in another breath, inspiring Dorrek to stop. "Are you hurt, William?" Concern was heavy in his tone, as if he wished to ask if _he_ had hurt William.  
  
"No," Will whispered. He dropped his head back down to Dorrek's shoulder, supposing the prince did not mind terribly much to hold him that way. "Just ... I'm confused. It was daytime. I was trying to find Tom and Eli."  
  
With more forewarning, he relaxed when Dorrek resumed stroking his back. Dorrek's touch was tentative, attempting to comfort Will in his confused state. "You fell unconscious again. Do you remember?"  
  
Will shook his head and immediately regretted doing so.  
  
"You were fine when you were locating Kate's mate, but you had problems locating your brother. Kate has gone to call in a favor, so we can reach her mate's location without overtaxing your abilities. I'm to make sure you rest until she returns." Will turned his face fully into Dorrek's shoulder and tried to stifle his laughter. It was still obvious, however, and Dorrek's voice took on the tone of a thoughtful frown. "What is it?"  
  
"Eli is her boyfriend," he explained, trying to stop himself from laughing to keep from offending Dorrek. He hadn't quite yet realized it was very difficult to offend the Skrull Prince.  
  
"Is that different?" wondered Dorrek.  
  
"Yes. Mates -- are for a very long time, aren't they?"  
  
"For life, William."  
  
Will smiled. "Exactly. A boyfriend or a girlfriend is temporary. Okay, not _temporary_ , but it's a relationship without the commitment of a lifetime. Though sometimes, most of the time, someone is your boyfriend before you decide to spend the rest of your lives together."  
 _  
_Dorrek fell silent after the explanation and William wondered if he had said something incorrectly. He was about to speak, maybe explain something further, when Dorrek pointed out, "You told your friend that I am your mate."  
  
"Yes," Will confirmed. His cheeks suddenly felt hot. He remembered tripping over the words, but finding it easy to admit to Kate what he was still thinking about in the wake of their conversation on the pier. "You _are_ my mate. Moldy alien cave spores, remember?"  
  
The hand on Will's back stopped altogether, just resting warmly against his skin, but Dorrek's smile was obvious in his voice. "I remember. It was only a few days ago, William." After a moment, Dorrek went on, "I know you're not upset that I was dishonest about myself. But does this mean you -- you still intend to honor the treaty?"  
  
"Yes," William said again, his voice a soft whisper. He and Anella had become fast friends over the past few days, on Skrullos and traveling back to Earth, and that means that he and Dorrek were friends, just the same. Having seen Anella interact with who he thought was Dorrek, William had warmed to the idea of having her on Earth to keep her away from her oppressive family. Knowing what he now knows about Dorrek's relationship with his grandfather, William could not help but feel exactly the same. "I'm sure my grandfather won't initially approve, but -- _I_ approve. And you approve, don't you?"  
  
"Not at first," Dorrek admitted, prompting William to raise his head and smile down at the prince. "I knew it was my duty to my family. But then I met you and you made me smile."  
  
If there was any reason in the world to approve of an arranged interspecies marriage, William thought Dorrek just hit the nail on the head. "You made me smile, too."  
  
His back felt suddenly cool as Dorrek moved his hand, finally, only to reach up to touch William's cheek. It was only natural for Will to close his eyes at the touch, realizing at long last how exhausted and overtaxed the last several days had left him, and lean into the warmth of Dorrek's palm. Just as he was about to speak again, everything slid just a little to the left. The broad chest he was leaning against shrank into a smaller, feminine form and Will had to put an arm out to keep from falling. When he opened his eyes in alarm, he found Anella beneath him, touching his cheek, expression open and hopeful.  
  
"I _can_ make you happy," she said. "When we are married here on Earth."  
  
It took a moment for it to sink in to William's head what she -- _he_ , what _Dorrek_ \-- meant by the change and accompanying assertion. He reached up to cover Dorrek's hand on his cheek with his own, shaking his head. "No, don't be anyone you aren't with me. Please, Dorrek."  
  
The change that followed was easier for Dorrek to achieve, given their position shift moments before, as he gently rolled them over to reverse their positions. It wasn't as uncomfortable a position to be in for Will -- the exact opposite, in fact -- and he was relieved to be staring up at Dorrek again.  
  
"You prefer me this way?" Dorrek wondered.  
  
Will opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find the correct words to say. It just _hurt_ him, in a strange way he didn't anticipate, to see firsthand how hung up Dorrek was on pleasing those around him with his appearance. Somehow, despite the honesty of it, Will hated himself for wanting to answer in the affirmative. Even with an explanation about himself and his own desires, it felt wrong. As if, by answering, he was in agreement that he should have any say at all over how Dorrek appeared or who Dorrek asserted himself to be. And yet, Will could not also help but wonder if he was being dishonest, the longer he kept hidden the part of himself that would put Dorrek at ease about this arrangement.  
  
Ultimately, it just felt like something that should be brought up and discussed later, separate from the conversation they were having now.  
  
"I prefer you to be who you are," William finally stated. "Whoever that is, that's who I want to know. Who I want to be with."  
  
There was confusion plainly written on Dorrek's features, but he didn't immediately answer Will. Instead, Will wound an arm around him and urged him down to rest his head on Will's shoulder as Dorrek had held him earlier. After a deep breath and brief battle with his own strange sort of discomfort, Will stroked his hand through Dorrek's hair in a soothing gesture. It seemed to be all the prince needed to relax and finally admit, "They said you would require a princess to marry. Which is why I adopted the name of an unhatched sister."  
  
"Well, I'm saying different," Will answered. "I don't _require_ anything, Dorrek. I just want you to be happy."  
  
Although immediately after saying it, William did begin to wonder how likely it was for Dorrek to be happy at all, even if he wasn't required to be something other than himself while on Earth. He would be away from his family, however they misunderstood him, and everything he'd ever known. Just as he was about to question the likelihood of Dorrek's happiness aloud, the other prince raised his head and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of William's mouth.  
  
"Thank you," Dorrek said, the happiness William had begun to doubt apparent in his voice.  
  
Will could only smile and brush his hand through Dorrek's hair again. "We should rest. I'm sure Kate will be back soon."  
  
Dorrek just settled his head back down against Will's shoulder, belatedly wondering, "May I?"  
  
"Yes," Will answered. "Of course."  
  
With the permission given, Dorrek relaxed even further against William and, within moments, his breathing shifted to that of sound sleep. While William had blacked out twice already today, which was still anything but restful, Dorrek had remained awake for the entirety of the day in one timezone and at least half in another, complete with battling Skrull imposters and flying halfway across a city. He must have been exhausted.  
  
Though similarly drained, sleep did not come easily to William. His ability to locate people had been something to develop with the manifestation of the rest of his powers at puberty, but he had _always_ been able to sense his brother, even in some small way. To be utterly cut off from Thomas, perhaps even forcibly, made him feel more than just uneasy. It was easy to push it out of his mind when there was something else happening, some other conversation to be had, but with Dorrek asleep on his shoulder and only the sounds of New York City from the twentieth floor to keep him company, all William could do was worry.


	6. Lost 'Til You're Found

"Subtle," William drawled, staring out across the large expanse of the high-rise roof to where a Stark Industries transport was waiting on the helicopter pad he imagined one of the insanely wealthy building tenants, if not Kate herself, had installed for private use. "Very subtle, Kate."

Kate, complete with long coat and scarf to ward off cold from the wind, shouldered her bag and began heading across the roof to meet their 'pilot' as he emerged from the compact jet. "You said not to contact anyone we usually contact," she happily defended.

Will just stared and tried to formulate a proper response, but all that came out was, "I didn't mean call a TV star, Kate!"

Across the roof, Johnny Storm opened the passenger loading door of the transport for Kate and took her bag to stow it, before pulling her into a hug. William watched them exchange a few words, unheard over the wind, and a couple of laughs. Somehow, he just didn't like that the two seemed to be enjoying themselves at this particular moment. It was barely dawn, he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, they were about to embark on a rather dangerous trip, and -- not surprisingly -- Kate had managed to find a clever loophole in his request the day before.

"Who is he?" Dorrek wondered, tilting his head curiously to one side as he watched the two humans interact.

"Johnny Storm," Will explained, finally taking the first step across the roof to join Kate and their ride. "He's an armored combatant. On television."

Dorrek made a noise that Will thought sounded impressed and that definitely didn't improve his mood.

As they approached, Kate turned to make largely unnecessary introductions while Johnny kept his arm around her, wearing a smug smile and just barely inclining his head. "Your Highnesses," he said by way of greeting. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Kate didn't tell you?" wondered Will.

"Not a word," Johnny said, seeming supremely unbothered. "She just said she needed transport, so I borrowed a jet off Tony and here I am. Where are we headed?"

Will glanced between the two of them, then supplied, "A few miles south of Montreal. Can you cross international borders?"

"I can," Johnny answered, grinning slyly. "With or without incident?"

"Without," Will answered archly. "Preferably."

Johnny laughed and shook his head. "No shit, Maximoff. Get in."

Without further ado, Johnny dropped his arm from around Kate and settled into the cockpit once more, leaving William and Dorrek to follow Kate's lead in boarding the transport. Once the two of them were inside and seated, Kate closed the hatch and took a seat opposite them to strap in.

As if trying to head off a prince’s natural inclination toward offense at Johnny's behavior, Kate announced: "Will, there's something you should know." After the compact jet took to the sky, the initial turbulence of takeoff evening out and the noise of the engines dying down, she continued, "Tommy isn't as politically stupid as you'd like to think he is."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Will wondered. Honestly, he didn't like to think that Tom was politically stupid at all, just politically apathetic. They almost never talked politics and when they did, Tom never seemed to have a coherent idea of what it was he supported, which made it difficult for Will to take his brother seriously sometimes.

Kate leaned forward, straining her seat belt to rest her elbows on her knees, and said: "Eli and I run an underground organization, providing mutant growth hormone to sapiens who have been denied access to government funding or jobs due to their genetic status."

Although Will had known for a while that Eli's reputation wasn't the best in the world, he had always assumed that it also wasn't necessarily true. There were always rumors circulating about people, especially people who moved in Kate's circles, because the press liked to spin wild stories just to sell magazines.

"I didn't think it was true," he volunteered after a moment of Kate staring expectantly at him, waiting for his reaction. "About Eli," he clarified when Kate raised an eyebrow at him. "Dealing. I mean, he uses, but doesn't everyone? Sapiens?"

The moment he spoke the words aloud, Will knew he had said the absolute wrong thing.

Kate straightened up with a look that was first alarmed, then disgusted. "No, Your Highness," she answered coldly. "Not all sapiens use MGH. Believe it or not, a vast majority of sapiens do not actually live in awe and jealousy of their 'superiors.'"

William found himself cringing. "Kate, that's not what I -- "

"I know perfectly well what you meant!" Kate snapped. "Christ, Will! I thought you were better than that."

Without any explanation for his comment, or the reasoning behind it, Will slumped back in his seat, defeated and chastised. For a moment, Kate said nothing else, just scrutinizing him with narrowed eyes.

Finally, when she felt he had thought a suitably long amount of time about his statement, she went on, "The United States government has passed legislation in recent years that makes us second-class citizens. Government assistance, financial aid, housing, jobs, fertility treatment -- anyone can be denied access to any of these things based solely on their genetic makeup. We have almost no representation in the government anymore. We're trying to fight it with the supreme court, but it takes time. Time a lot of people don't have when they're unemployed, homeless, and hungry on the street. Why do you think a militant organization like the New Human Resistance exists and is apparently carting people, sapiens, over the border into Canada? It's the only country in North America making an effort at equality, Will."

"I just -- " William began, but was immediately cut off.

"So when we get people like your brother, people who actually give a shit rather than making ridiculous assumptions about our species as a whole, it's a fucking godsend. The mutant growth hormone we're able to produce from donations from a man like Tommy goes to people who need to pass genetic screenings just to get a job to support their family. It isn't glamorous, it isn't what we should have to do in order to live, but this is how the world is. And you're lucky people like me even associate with people like you because of it."

Will sat in stunned silence for a long moment, unsure of how to respond or if anything he could possibly say would make amends, but ultimately decided that, unfortunately, Kate was right. Absolutely right.

Once the silence stretched on uncomfortably long, Kate unbuckled her seat belt and moved into the cockpit to settle into the co-pilot's chair next to Johnny.

"I don't understand," Dorrek observed after a moment.

Will took a slow breath in and exhaled a soft sigh. "Neither do I, apparently."

\---

 

It was overcast, the light filtering down through the gray storm clouds was a too bright white. Thomas squinted and raised a hand to shield his eyes as he was let out of the building. Finally, after a few days of being poked and prodded at by his captors, he was permitted to get fresh air out of doors, under the hawk-like supervision of the watch towers and armed guards strategically placed around the fenced perimeter of the supposed New Human Resistance compound.

The whole place looked remarkably different during daylight hours, its buildings relatively new and its grounds the hard, packed earth of recent construction. He stepped further away from the building and realized he was in a part of the base that was fenced off even from the regular parts by barbed-wire topped chain-length. It looked desolate. Like something out of a war movie.

Beyond the fence that separated him from the rest of the compound, Tom could see people -- civilians, he supposed, given the way they were dressed -- milling about, talking, and generally not seeming as put-off as one should be to have been kidnapped and held against one’s will. He crossed his arms over his chest, warding off the cold that easily penetrated the hospital scrubs he had been made to wear, and scuffed his booted feet in heavy, shuffling steps toward the fence. Walking the inside perimeter, like a caged tiger at the zoo, would at least give him a good idea of what he would come up against during an escape attempt.

If his limbs ever cooperated enough for him to make an attempt at escaping.

By the time he came around the building on his second circuit of the fence, Tom was surprised to find the familiar silhouette of Eli’s imposing form leaning against the fence with his back to Tom. He stepped closer and leaned back against the fence, too, close enough to talk.

“It’s like being in prison,” Eli commented after a long pause. “Or maybe a concentration camp, you know?”

Tom closed his eyes. He thought about the faded ink on the inside of his grandfather’s forearm and clenched his fists.

Eli made no apologies. He didn’t have to. He was right. “What are they doing to you over there?” he wondered.

“I look like a goddamn junkie,” Tom complained upon opening his eyes. He turned his arm toward Eli, showing the punctures and needle marks marring his skin. “They keep taking blood and injecting me with god knows what. Power inhibitors, I guess.”

Eli glanced over, just briefly, before looking back across the compound on his side of the fence. He watched the placated civilians with contempt. “How do you feel?”

“I’m not dying,” Tom observed, crossing his arms again. “But I feel like shit. Weak, sick. Whatever they’re doing, I don’t know, I feel like it’s changing me somehow.”

“I understand,” Eli said. It wasn’t unkind, Tom knew, it was just necessary. Eli’s I understand actually meant We need to get out of here, now. It just wasn’t safe to say as much aloud.

The wind picked up briefly and Tom shivered, staring at the building on his side of the fence as means of distraction. “How are things over there? How’s Cass?”

“She’s fine,” Eli said. “We both are. It’s not even that bad over here. Apart from the brainwashing.” Eli glanced down at his feet, kicking up a bit of dirt as he quietly explained, “Every meal comes with a dose of pro-sapien propaganda and we’re probably the only ones here who’ve been eating regularly. You wouldn’t think that would change a man, but it does. Real quick.”

Tom shook his head, tried to think. “I understand,” he ultimately answered, in agreement with Eli that they needed to get out. How was another thing altogether.

“It’s too bright,” Eli noted and Tom knew he meant they couldn’t escape in broad daylight.

He grinned a little, but it was a tired expression. “I wonder when Big Brother blinks.”

There was almost a laugh in Eli’s voice when he answered. “Six, two, ten.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Tom answered. After a pause, he outright wondered, “Any Skrulls over there?”

He could tell the question had Eli confused. The other man glanced over and actually held Tom’s gaze for an extended moment. “Not that I know of. Why?”

Tom couldn’t help but wonder, not for the first time since he found out the truth, how long the Skrull impostor had been impersonating the woman they both loved and if Kate, the real Kate, was still out there somewhere at all. They’d known each other for so many years, it hurt to think about the possibility that everything could be a lie. And since Eli didn’t seem any wiser to the situation, Tom just couldn’t find it in him to tell the truth.

“I saw one,” he admitted ambiguously. “They took me out of my cell a few days ago, but not for the usual experiments. I don’t know what they did, Eli, but I’m worried. We’re supposed to have a treaty with them, my brother’s marrying one of them to keep the peace, but they’re hiding here on Earth, mixed up with the NHR?”

Eli made a disgusted noise and shook his head. “I hate Skrulls. I hate not knowing who to trust, because no one could be who they say they are.”

“Hey,” Tom said seriously. “You know me, okay? And I know you.”

They exchanged another glance and, in tandem, both stated: “Brooklyn Bridge.” It wasn’t something they’d decided on previously, not some kind of code word, but was instead the most notable facet of their friendship. Both of them would know it if they were really who they said they were.

Eli laughed outright almost immediately afterward, shaking his head. “Good.”

“Good,” Tom agreed. They both lapsed into silence, each contemplating their situation, and Tom watched the nearest guard tower with interest he was keen to make look like something else entirely. He couldn’t tell what time of day it was with all the clouds, but he figured it was past two o’clock. By ten, it would be pitch dark and the guards in the towers would have the upper-hand.

“Hey, Tom,” Eli spoke again after a moment. “I hate to ask, but … where’s Magnus? He’s usually made a personal appearance by now. I mean, unless the royal family’s adopted a policy against negotiating with kidnappers, you should’ve been rescued a long time ago.”

When Eli was right, he was right. Tom leaned his head back against the fence and exhaled a slow sigh. “They probably don’t know I’m missing. They probably won’t get suspicious until Will gets back.”

And this, Tom thought, was some sort of sick poetic justice for disagreeing with diplomatic measures and refusing to speak to his family while his brother was away.

“You know what Kate would say about rescues,” Eli pointed out, straightening up from the fence. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked back toward the group of buildings on his side of things, leaving Tom where he leaned, staring up at the guard tower.

He knew what Kate would say.

Kate would say that the only person you could ever rely on for a rescue was yourself.

\---

 

It was Thomas’ first bout of leave since beginning his training with the Red Guard. William, in his freshman year at college, happened to have a term break that coincided. It was easy to coerce his twin to join him in New York City for a few days, rather than go straight back to Genosha from Oxford, if only because Will was never really feeling up to the challenge of dealing with their family these days. Plus, Will knew deep down how much Tom had always wanted to visit New York and couldn’t easily blow off that kind of request.

At the club, it was his uniform more than their fake IDs that got them in and opened a tab at the bar for them both. By the time the headliner took the stage for that evening’s performance, there were several girls at their table making heavy-handed attempts to flirt with them (on the subject of twins). Will was a real light-weight and at the bottom of his third martini glass started leaning against Tom’s shoulder, which wasn’t helping the situation much.

The act closed with cheers from the club and one of the girls pointedly informed Will she was going to powder her nose. Much to Tom’s surprise, his twin stumbled over his chair a few moments later, heading in the general direction of the restrooms. Smirking, Tom closed out their tab and joined several of the other flirtatious ladies outside while they smoked and considered where to go after last call. He politely produced a lighter and small talk, but no real suggestions.

As the girls discussed places he was unfamiliar with and the pros versus cons of going to them, Tom’s attention wandered across the street, watching as a gorgeous girl comprised almost entirely of legs and swagger stepped out of another club. It must have been a slightly classier establishment, given her little black dress and the way her long dark hair was swept elegantly up off her neck. As he stared, she caught the attention of a pair of shady characters loitering near the entrance of a side street and they tossed whatever brown-bagged liquor they’d been sharing to follow her as she headed out of sight.

“Excuse me,” he interrupted the chattering girls around him, breaking off from the group to follow.

Down the street, outside the warm yellow glow of street lamps and away from the milling patrons of several late night bars and clubs, the men had pulled weapons -- energy blades for one and sharp fangs set in an unhinged jaw for another -- while threatening the girl to go back to Sapien Town.

One of them reached for her purse while the other made a grab for her arm and seeing the way she wrenched away was all Tom needed to launch into action. In a burst of speed, he slammed into the one wielding energy blades, barreling him over. Tom got swiftly to his feet and stumbled back a few steps, bumping into the girl as she rocked back from throwing a surprising right hook. Given the sickening crunch and groan, Tom assumed the second assailant came off with a broken nose.

The girl glanced over at him briefly as they stood practically back to back and inclined her head in a small nod, half-smiling. Tom grinned slyly in return.

But his attention snapped back to the fight at hand when the guy wielding energy blades was on his feet again. Rather than stand at a safe distance and protect his energy blades, the mugger got up close and personal with Tom, having maybe not gotten the message that his opponent was a speedster. Tom blocked the jabs and punches with ease, faster than the guy could keep up with, and landed several disorienting punches before a kick to the gut sent the mugger stumbling back, sprawling onto his ass on the pavement.

Beside him, the girl had her second attacker face-first on the ground, his nose bleeding and one arm twisted all the way up between his shoulder blades. The man screamed and retracted his fangs, begging for mercy until she let go. Both men scrambled to get to their feet and fled down the street without so much as a threat thrown in their wake.

“You okay?” Tom asked.

“Yeah,” the girl answered, looking at him with a raised eyebrow that just screamed unimpressed. “I could’ve handled them, you know. Easily. I didn’t your help, Agent.”

“Cadet,” admitted Tom, smirking nevertheless. “Is that how New Yorkers say ‘thank you’?”

“Most of us,” she answered with a small smile, as if Tom’s expression and humor were contagious.

“I’m Tom,” he said, offering her his hand.

She looked warily at it for a moment, then shook it with a surprisingly firm grip. “Kate Bishop.”

“The Kate Bishop?” Tom asked.

“Dunno,” Kate answered. “Are you the Prince Thomas? ‘Cause you sure as hell look like him.”

Tom opened his mouth to answer, only to be interrupted by his drinking companions shouting for him from down the street. He laughed with obvious embarrassment rather than outright answer.

Kate managed to look both amused and disapproving at the same time as she stepped toward the street to hail herself a cab. When the taxi stopped, Tom hurried over to open the door for her.

She paused before settling into the backseat and smiled genuinely at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he answered automatically, inspiring a laugh from Kate.

“See you around, Tommy.”

He shut the door behind her once Kate seated herself in the back of the cab, then took a step back onto the curb to watch the car disappear into the distance. Within seconds, he was back in front of the club, only to find his brother looking rumpled and confused, while the group of girls seemed collectively annoyed.

They all parted ways after Will received what looked to be another resounding slap to the face. He blinked owlishly at Tom and rubbed his reddened cheek.

“Dude,” Tom said, “what did you do to her?”

“Nothing!” defended Will, drunk and indignant. “I - I was trying to go to the men’s room. I really had to go! And she sort of followed me in. And jumped me. And got pissed off when I told her to get out so I could -- ”

Before Will could even finish, Tom burst out laughing.

\---

After Tom’s all too brief meeting with Eli, hours crawled by in what felt like days. Without a means of gauging the passage of time, he had no idea when ten o’clock would come around and that, unfortunately, was the biggest flaw in Tom’s plan for escape.

Even as he contemplated the particulars of how he would get out of his cell and where he could go from there, the cell door swung open slowly and the Skrull impostor still half-wearing Kate’s appearance stepped into the room. She checked the corridor behind her, then tossed Tom’s clothes at him. “Get dressed. Quickly.”

Ever difficult, Tom just stared up at her from where he lay prone and exhausted on his cell’s cot.

“There’s no time to argue, Tommy,” she insisted, pleading with Kate’s voice. “We have to go. Now.”

‘Go’ being the operative word in that sentence, Tom actually felt compelled to cooperate. He dressed without complaint, though still highly suspicious of the Skrull’s motivation. Even if this was part of an elaborate ruse, for some reason, he could still use the opportunity to his advantage.

“We need to release your aunt and uncle,” the Skrull stated, opening the door and slipping into the hallway before Tom could question the fact that his aunt and uncle were even here to begin with.

After slipping out of the cell to follow his unlikely rescuer, Tom followed her down the corridor, where she unlocked two doors right next to each other. The first room contained Pietro, much to Tom’s surprise, who seemed to be in the same sluggish state as Tom himself. Together, they entered the next cell and Pietro gathered a heavily sedated Lorna into his arms.

“The guards are changing soon,” the Kate impostor informed them, watching the corridor from the doorway of Lorna’s cell. “There’s a gap in the southern section of the perimeter fence. We can get out through there.”

“Eli and Cass -- ” Tom tried to protest.

He was immediately cut off by a stern, Kate-like expression. “They’re not being harmed,” the Skrull insisted. “But you three have to get to Genosha before Veranke.”

Pietro had been bordering on furious from the moment he was let out of his cell and now he seemed fit to explode. Before he could burst with any demands or questions, Tom interrupted with, “Who’s Veranke?”

“It doesn’t matter who she is,” the Skrull insisted. “It just matters what she intends to do. You have to stop her from getting to Wanda!”

Even if none of it made sense, even if they both had a thousand questions, Tom knew he and his uncle could agree on one thing and one thing only: protecting his mother.

Before any other questions could be posed, the Skrull slipped out of the cell and into the corridor, prompting Tom and Pietro to follow, the latter cradling Lorna protectively against his chest. The corridor was empty and oppressively silent, giving them reason to stay as quiet as possible as they moved. At the end of the corridor, the Skrull paused at the door and consulted her watch -- Kate’s watch, Tom realized -- waiting for the precise moment to open the door.

Outside, it was dark but for the light of the half moon. While the guards in the towers were momentarily distracted by their relief coming to take their place, the Skrull led them away from the building and to the southern section of the perimeter fence. Several of the links in the chain had been cut and she pulled one half back like a curtain for them. Pietro went first with Lorna, ducking through the gap, and Tom followed, surprised to find Kate’s impostor bringing up the rear.

It was easy to get out of range of the guard towers and their search lights once outside the fence; they ran until the compound started to grow smaller in the distance. Tom was breathless and panting heavily by the time they stopped, unaccustomed to running without his super speed. Pietro was in much the same predicament, winded from the effort of carrying his sister.

Tom stared hard at the Skrull impostor for a long moment as he caught his breath, then finally demanded, “Who are you?”

“R’Kyl,” the Skrull answered, holding up her hands in a placating gesture. “I just want to help.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’ve been in there for days! They’ve been experimenting on me for days!”

“I know,” she answered emphatically. “I’m sorry, Tommy, I couldn’t let them know what I intended to do.”

“How long have you been impersonating Kate Bishop?” Tom demanded next. “Is she okay?”

“She is unharmed. I took her shape for an Earth month, I think,” R’Kyl admitted, obvious reluctance coloring her tone. “I was a sleeper agent. I didn’t know until a few days ago that I was even -- ”

Before she could finish, an explosion rocked the compound behind them. From where they stood, they could see a massive ball of fire and smoke engulf a whole building as it rained down pieces of debris.

“Eli!” Tom shouted. Almost automatically, he tried kicking off from the ground in a burst of speed, but got a very pathetic distance before R’Kyl caught his arm to stop him. “Let go! I have to go back!”

“No,” she said. “That building was empty. No one was in harm’s way.”

“Did you -- ” Pietro began.

“No,” the Skrull answered. “And I am unsure who did. We cannot linger to find out!”

There was a burst of gunfire from the compound, shouting, and then a bright blue light, unmistakable to both Tom and Pietro. Will was there, no doubt looking for one or both of them. Before R’Kyl could drag Tom away from staring at the scene unfolding in the distance, a compact jet zoomed by overhead, flying dangerously close to the ground.

Tom wrenched away from R’Kyl during the distraction and headed back the way they came, Pietro rushing along with him. Even without super speed, they both arrived as the jet was touching down outside the perimeter fence from which they had just escaped, spurned into a second wind by the idea of family in danger.

The jet’s loading door opened just as part of the perimeter fence was wrenched open by an imposingly tall, green figure. Kate -- the real Kate -- stood on the inside, firing arrow after arrow over one of Will’s blue shields to defend their retreat. Eli and Cass squeezed through the gap in the fence and hurried into the waiting transport, Eli shouting over his shoulder for Kate to hurry.

“Go!” Will ordered as he fought to maintain his shielding, clearly intent on staying to give Kate time to escape. “I have to find Tom!”

There was no reason for Will to stay and look for him, Tom realized, and he rushed further forward, almost right to the fence. “Will!” he shouted over the roar of the jet engines and the pelt of bullets hitting his brother’s shield. “Will!”

It was a distraction William didn’t need, turning slightly to see that his twin was already outside the compound, and a bullet tore through his momentarily weakened shield. It caught him in the shoulder and the rest of the shieldin wavered as Will struggled to keep his footing.

Suddenly, there was noise from all sides. Tom and Kate shouted in unison and she drew an arrow Tom would have recognized as tipped with explosives, had he been paying attention to anything but the way Will crumpled to the ground. Meanwhile, the imposing Skrull at the fence nearly doubled in size and leaped over to put himself between Will and the combat rifles the guards were wielding. In the ensuing chaos of another explosion thanks to Kate’s trick arrows, Will was scooped up out of harm’s way and flown over the fence by the sizable Skrull and Kate slipped through the gap in the chain links. R’Kyl, who had since caught up with Tom and Pietro, grabbed Tom firmly by the arm and pulled him into the waiting jet.

The bay doors closed when the last of them were aboard and the jet lifted off, the soft thud of metal on metal signifying the guards were firing at the hull. Ignoring the turbulence of take-off, Tom stumbled to his brother’s side. The impressively sized Skrull had Will cradled against his chest, trying desperately to stop the bleeding while Cass rushed to pull a first aid kit from an overhead compartment.

“Will?” Tom asked. “Will, are you okay?”

Will gave a weak smile and his mouth was tinged with blood. “Yeah,” he answered unconvincingly. “Figures -- I came to rescue you and you’d already escaped.”

Tom tried to laugh, but it came out sounding just as distressed as he felt. Cassie reached around him and pressed gauze to Will’s leaking wound. “Apply pressure!”

The Skrull complied, pressing his large hand over Will’s wound and eliciting a sharp cry from the injured man. “Sorry,” he apologized immediately.

“Hey,” Tom said, in an effort to catch his brother’s attention and keep Will distracted from the pain by talking. “Who’s this?”

Will blinked at the question and took a worryingly long moment to formulate a response. “My Skrullwife,” he finally said, laughing until he started coughing.

“Oh,” answered Tom. He reached out and brushed Will’s hair back from his face, unsure what else to do to help his brother. “Well. That’s one hell of a wife. Congrats.”

Will made a vague noise in answer and closed his eyes in a long blink that nearly stopped Tom’s heart. When his brother finally opened his eyes again, Tom wrenched himself away and pushed through the crowded transport toward the cockpit. He seated himself in the co-pilot’s chair without invitation or permission and began programing a new destination into the ship’s computer.

Johnny made an annoyed noise, but was silenced by the threatening glare Tom gave him. Once the coordinates were programmed, Johnny stared first at Tom and then at the computer screen on his side of the cockpit. “That’s just open ocean,” he scoffed. “There’s nothing on radar. Where the hell am I supposed to land?”

“Shut up and fly,” Tom demanded. “I’ll worry about where we’re landing.”

Johnny narrowed his eyes, looking briefly as if he wanted to argue, but found not convincing argument and just punched the jet’s accelerator.


	7. Don't Waste Your Words

The SHIELD helicarrier was a hive of activity in the wake of the emergency landing Thomas forced Johnny to make. Director Shaw, his uniform jacket hanging open, made a personal appearance on deck to demand an explanation for the civilian jet taking up space on his runway.  
  
“I need a med team,” Tom demanded, rather than give Shaw an ounce of explanation. “And Foley.”  
  
Shaw called for a med team, then set his jaw, indignant and annoyed to be addressed in such a way, even by someone so far above his pay grade. “Agent Foley is on assignment, Your Highness.”  
  
As more of the passengers of the transport filed out onto the deck of the helicarrier, Pietro stepped up to stand beside his nephew, tilting his chin up to look more imposing than the taller, broader SHIELD Director. “Then _get him back_ ,” the older speedster demanded. “ _Now_ , Shaw!”  
  
Shaw almost looked on the verge of protest, but ultimately turned to the nearest agent standing on hand and ordered, “Find Wagner. Have him retrieve Foley.”  
  
Soon enough, SHIELD medics rushed onto the helicarrier deck and into the jet. Tom was momentarily distracted, watching the emergency response team move his brother onto a stretcher. Will was even more pale than usual and had long since lost consciousness from the blood loss. He’d still had a pulse when they landed, was still breathing, but Tom would be lying if he said seeing his brother like that didn’t scare the hell out of him.  
  
The team hurried Will off the jet and toward the helicarrier’s med bay, the Skrull prince trailing along behind with two nurses following after him in an apparent attempting to convince him that the dozen bullets lodged in his back required just as much emergency medical attention as Prince William’s single gunshot wound.  
  
When Tom focused again, Pietro had successfully commandeered the helicarrier and gave Shaw orders to alter course for Genosha as soon as Wagner returned with Foley.  
  
“Where’s James?” Tom wondered.  
  
By the time he asked, Raven was on hand. The question fell to her by default as Shaw turned his head and refused, outright, to answer.  
  
“His quarters,” she volunteered, offering no explanation as to why a high alert and subsequent stand down didn’t warrant the attention of Red Guard’s lead agent.  
  
Tom had a good idea _why_ , at any rate. James Howlett had been wrestling with his own personal demons for years and was long past an honorable retirement by Shaw’s standards. He was still the best at what he did, still the only man for the job, but drugs and alcohol were serious offenses, even if it was what a man had to do to be able to sleep through the night. Tom didn’t judge him because he couldn’t possibly; he had never seen the things James had and had never been subjected to the same tortures. As far as Tom was concerned, very few people in the world were qualified to tell Agent Howlett how to live his life.  
  
“Have him meet me in medical?” Tom requested, the underlying suggestion being that only if James could. If he wasn’t fit for it, if he couldn’t stand on his own two feet, then the mission would have to go on without him and Raven was a perfect second in command.  
  
She nodded her understanding and headed back down below.  
  
Without another word, trusting Pietro to handle the situation, Tom followed the path the medics had taken moments before, heading down to the helicarrier’s med bay to check on his brother.  
  
Outside of medical, still a rather imposing three feet taller than everyone else aboard, Tom found the Skrull prince standing nervously outside the door. It was weird, really weird, to see someone that could have flung Director Shaw back to Canada looking nervous, but the Skrull stood there with his arms crossed, one large hand tucked under his chin, just staring at the medical bay through the window looking in from the corridor.  
  
Tom stood next to him and watched through the window as the doctors got to work on Will’s wound. Foley would be back soon, as soon as Kurt found him, and Will would be okay. At least that’s what Tom had to tell himself.  
  
“Dorrek, right?” Tom asked.  
  
The Skrull prince made a noise Tom assumed to be that of agreement. Tom knew that was his name, anyway, having heard Kate use it on the way to the helicarrier.  
  
“They’re right,” he said after a long silence. “The doctors. You should have them look at your back.”  
  
“The doctors are busy,” Dorrek answered, “and I will be fine. I’m healing.”  
  
Tom nodded, then observed, “But I bet it still hurts like a bitch.”  
  
“I don’t know what a bitch hurts like,” Dorrek said with a vague air of dismissal.  
  
Under any other circumstance, that would have been a hilarious statement, but Tom couldn’t find enough humor left in him to actually laugh. Not with Will injured, maybe dying, and his mother in danger. Not with the way his own body ached with bruises and the inside of his arms itched with the remnants of needle punctures.  
  
“What’s going on?” Tom finally wondered, tearing his eyes away from the doctors digging in Will’s shoulder for bullet fragments. He looked up at Dorrek, watched a confused expression cloud the man’s face.  
  
After a moment, Dorrek shook his head. “I don’t know.”  
  
“Just tell me everything that happened.”  
  
Dorrek opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound -- and stench -- of Agent Wagner teleporting into the hallway. Kurt was accompanied by the gold-skinned Agent Foley, who was dressed in civilian attire beneath a long trench coat. Unwrapping his arm and tail from around Foley, Kurt stepped back to wait, in case he needed to teleport Josh back to whatever assignment off of which he’d been brought.  
  
Tom immediately moved to open the door to medical, gesturing Foley inside. “My brother needs your help. Please.”  
  
Foley nodded and headed inside to join the medics already working on the prince. Tom glanced over at Dorrek, tilting his head toward the door in indication. “Come on. Will needs us.”  
  
The suggestion seemed to alter Dorrek’s resolve to keep his distance, though his movements were still reluctant as he stepped into the med bay. Tom followed him inside.  
  


\--

  
  
Although it was the presence of distinct voices that roused him from what felt like the heaviest sleep he’d ever fallen into, it was actually the absence of pain that kept William awake. There was the odd, disconcerting moment, however, of being unable to locate all his limbs, if only due to having not moved for what could have been hours. Ultimately, he turned his head and opened his eyes to look down at his injured shoulder. _Formerly injured_ would be the better way of describing it, he realized. It was uncovered, without even so much as a bandage, and he skin was merely red and aggravated, rather than gaping open or bloody.  
  
“He’s awake,” someone said from outside his field of vision. Suddenly, both Thomas and Dorrek were hovering over him with concern. Will realized one of his hand’s was held in both of Dorrek’s own, over-sized to match his currently imposing Skrull form, and his brother was grasping his other hand almost too tightly.  
  
For a tense moment, no one spoke, until Will realized his twin was on the verge of tears. Tom had been the kind of kid who got angry before he got sad and was the sort of adult who never let his guard down too often, making the display of emotion surprising, though not entirely unwarranted by the situation.  
  
“Hey, Pietro,” Will greeted when he finally spoke, trying to shift the moment away from tension and toward humor by calling attention to his brother’s bleached white hair. “When did you get here?”  
  
Tom’s concerned expression almost immediately turned into a scowl of annoyance. “Oh, _very funny_!” he snapped. “It’s not like I was worried about you dying or anything.”  
  
Tom initially refused to let go of Will’s hand, but ultimately gave up after narrowing his eyes warningly in the face of his brother’s amused grin, and stepped out of Will’s field of vision. Will focused on Dorrek as soon as Tom was gone. His efforts to laugh off the tense moment had thusfar been successful, so he had no qualms continuing. “You and I have to stop meeting like this,” Will decided, his grin softening into a smile for Dorrek.  
  
“I think the only way to prevent our meeting like this would be for you to stop losing consciousness,” Dorrek pointed out. His tone of voice was serious, even if his expression was that of relief and fondness.  
  
“I’m _trying_ ,” Will defended with a laugh. “I’m sick of waking up like this.”  
  
“At least this time you have a very good reason for losing consciousness,” Dorrek observed helpfully.  
  
Will laughed against. “Thanks, I feel loads better.”  
  
The sarcasm wasn’t lost on Dorrek, given the way he grinned, but Tom interrupted to demand the Skrull prince sit back down. Dorrek sighed, complying with the request without letting go of Will’s hand, and Will shifted onto his side to get a better look at his surroundings and what was going on. He realized then that they were in what looked like a military hospital room, all metal and rivets and utilitarianism, with a curtain drawn halfway around his bed and the gurney Dorrek was seated upon.  
  
Behind Dorrek, Tom pulled on a pair of latex gloves and picked up a pair of medical forceps, setting to work on Dorrek’s back in a way that made Will frown. “Are you okay?”  
  
“I -- ”  
  
“He has almost a dozen bullets stuck in his back,” Tom announced with annoyance. “And he wouldn’t let any of the doctors take a look at him.”  
  
“I’m fine,” Dorrek insisted, trying to keep Will calm. “I have very thick skin.”  
  
It wasn’t an exaggeration, Will realized. Dorrek’s shoulders and upper arms were covered in a ridged, almost scaly skin, something that nearly looked like armor, utterly unlike any Skrull Will had previously encountered. He hadn’t realized it before, not with Dorrek in clothing that fit him properly for his larger form, but now that he took the time to look it was obvious.  
  
“But if he reverts back without having them removed -- ” Tom stated, his tone leading.  
  
Dorrek looked very briefly annoyed to have that fact highlighted and again reassured, “I will be fine. I was going to remove them myself, but your brother insisted on helping me.”  
  
Will looked between Dorrek and what he could see of Tom’s hair over Dorrek’s shoulder. “Okay,” he decided. They both seemed relatively all right, so Will couldn’t ask for more.  
  
In the minutes that followed, Tom removed bullet after bullet from Dorrek’s back in a way that Will thought must have been like a veterinarian removing porcupine quills from a grizzly, a vague annoyance taken care of in a matter of moments, if only the patient would sit still for it. Dorrek seemed particularly impatient and shifted minutely after each one was removed. The pieces of metal were all badly crumpled and thunked heavily onto the medical tray resting on the gurney next to Dorrek without so much as a drop of blood.  
  
With a triumphant noise, Tom eventually removed the last bullet and Dorrek immediately shifted into his base form, hanging his head and seeming much more tired as a humanoid than he had as a Skrull.  
  
“Everything okay?” Will asked. He reached up to cover Dorrek’s hand with his free one.  
  
Dorrek nodded, lifting his head to smile at Will reassuringly. There was concern in his expression, too. It was concern Dorrek didn’t immediately voice, if only because Will offered him a reassuring smile of his own. Instead, they merely lingered in the relief each was feeling for the safety of the other, finding words unnecessary.  
  
The moment was interrupted by the snap of latex. “Right,” Tom announced, removing his gloves and tossing them into the nearest waste receptacle. “I’m going to check on everyone else.” The exaggerated tone of his voice and the way Tom made a show out of pulling the curtain fully around the bed was as embarrassing for Will as he suspected his twin intended it to be.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he apologized once they were alone ( _truly_ alone, since it seemed to take a while for Tom’s shadow to disappear from the other side of the curtain).  
  
“It’s all right,” Dorrek insisted.  
  
“I know this isn’t what you thought would happen when you came to Earth and I’m -- “ William came up short for words when Dorrek leaned in and rested his cheek against their joined hands, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Will’s own.  
  
Dorrek smiled, something almost unrepentant about his method of silencing Will’s further apology. “This is the most excitement I’ve ever had in my life, William. I’m _scared_ and I’m anxious and I’m exhausted, but for the first time ever I have no idea what’s going to happen. Nothing’s planned out for me and I’m allowed to choose for myself how to react. I -- I was shot. Because I wanted to protect you. And -- ”  
  
He laughed, soft and breathless and exhilarated, the laugh of a man with still too much adrenaline coursing through his system to calm down after all the excitement was over.  
  
Suddenly, Will understood why Dorrek had been so impatient earlier, still dealing with the amalgamation of nerves and energy, like a live wire jumping around in his stomach. But there was exhaustion there, too, and Dorrek’s laugh eventually subsided into a soft gasping sob. It was just too much for someone who had been sheltered their whole life and Will understood that better than anyone could. He was the same emotional wreck inside, just barely holding it together.  
  
Will tugged Dorrek down across the short distance between them and leaned up to kiss him, lips finding Dorrek’s own in a way that was gentle, neither hesitating nor placating. It was enough to bring Dorrek’s emotionally overwrought reaction to a halt, giving him yet another decision to make. There was only a brief, hesitant lull between Will initiating the kiss and Dorrek returning it and he pushed all his nervous energy into a rushed, demanding response once the decision was made.  
  
A soft, encouraging noise caught in Will’s throat and suddenly Dorrek was on the edge of the bed, leaning over to maintain contact. He arched up, lips parting to deepen the kiss, and Dorrek’s response was surprised, retreating briefly before pressing closer for more. Will didn’t have time or forethought to wonder how Skrulls even kissed. Instead, he reached up and touched Dorrek’s skin, hand resting lightly on the other man’s bare side and causing a shiver to work its way down Dorrek’s spine.  
  
Long moments of kissing and Will’s hand sliding lightly down to Dorrek’s hip finally proved too much for the other prince and he moved the rest of the way onto the bed without prompting. Pressed together suddenly, Will tried to silence his desperate, wanting noise in the kiss when Dorrek’s obvious erection nudged against his hip. Unconsciously, Will shifted until their hips slotted together, the bulge of his own hardening cock pushed against Dorrek’s.  
  
Dorrek gasped away from the kiss and leaned his forehead against Will’s, his voice a hot whisper between them. “ _William_.”  
  
In his tone, Will could hear a very small hint of Dorrek’s doubt, mostly drowned out by the mixed need for physical and emotional release. The doubt could be attributed to anything, but it gave Will reason to slow down and catch his breath, waiting for Dorrek.  
  
Dorrek made an impatient sound, soft and pressed against Will’s cheek, then rolled his hips forward in search of friction. “I just -- I don’t -- ”  
  
Before he could go on to explain himself, the med bay door on the other side of the curtain opened, heralding someone’s arrival. Will wasn’t fast enough to stop Dorrek from jerking away and hurriedly getting off the bed to return to his previous perch.  
  
They were both still short of breath, cheeks flushed and sitting awkwardly apart, by the time Tom pulled the curtain back.  
  
“We’ve got a meeting in twenty minutes,” Tom announced cheerfully, dropping a stack of folded uniform pieces onto the foot of Will’s bed. “Get dressed. Meet us in the situation room upstairs.”  
  
Will stared at his twin. Tom stared right back, then raised both eyebrows. “There’s a shower,” he said, cocking his head to one side to indicate the facilities’ location. “I suggest a cold one.”  
  
There was something unbearably smug about the way he said it, but before Will could even think of telekinetically flinging anything not bolted down at his brother, Tom had retreated out of the med bay again.  
  
After a moment of awkward silence, Will swung his feet over the edge of the bed and reached across to rest his hand on Dorrek’s. “This’ll be over soon,” he promised. “We’ll be okay.”  
  
It hardly seemed like an adequate means of comfort or reassurance, it did nothing for how either of them felt in the wake of such intensity, but Dorrek just smiled. “I know.”  
  
“Come on,” Will urged as he slid off the bed, bare feet hitting the floor. Beneath the blankets, he found himself clad in just his underwear, which served to make the situation just a little more awkward, but Will strove to ignore it. “I _do_ need a cold shower.”  
  
The joke that had originally gone over Dorrek’s head, once repeated, piqued the Skrull’s curiosity. He gathered up the uniform pieces Tom left for them both and followed Will toward the med bay’s shower facilities. “What is the difference?”  
  
William’s embarrassed laughter was distorted and echoed by the tiled wall acoustics of the room and he explained the reference only once they had separated to different shower stalls, much to Dorrek’s amusement.  
  
“I like your brother,” Dorrek decided over the sounds of running water. “Even if his arrival was … untimely.”  
  
Will hung his head under the cold spray of water. “You’re more generous than I am.”  
  


\--

  
  
The situation room was not filled with SHIELD agents, as one might have expected it to be, but everyone attending the ‘meeting’ was in full or partial uniform nevertheless. Though Tom explained it as active camouflage, as they would soon be arriving in Genosha with the rest of the Red Guard and didn’t want to stand out overly much, Will was still incredibly uncomfortable in the unfamiliar attire.  
  
“Agent Foley pulled these out of my blood stream,” Tom continued, after putting the question of the uniforms to bed. He activated a computer terminal on the wall, showing a magnified video feed of what appeared to be a mechanical squid. “Nanobots.”  
  
“It is Skrull technology,” Dorrek provided.  
  
“ _And yet_ ,” a voice interjected from the wall terminal, “ _has all the hallmarks of something Dr. Pym would design_.” The video feed minimized, revealing the computer-lit face of Tony Stark. He seemed to be busy working on several other monitors at the same time, not even looking in the direction of his webcam.  
  
Johnny grinned and saluted the distracted Tony from his place at the conference table. “Thanks for joining us, Tony,” he said, but the only response from Stark’s video feed was furious typing.  
  
“Isn’t Dr. Pym the guy who tried to blow up Chicago years ago?” Kate interjected seriously.  
  
“ _He was using gene bombs, targeting homo superiors and trying to assassinate Magnus_ ,” Stark confirmed. “ _We stopped him, but he escaped custody before he could be brought to trial. SHIELD could never find him. He’s been on Interpol’s Most Wanted list ever since_.”  
  
Feeling like he might have overlooked a logical conclusion somewhere, Will wondered, “But how can Skrull technology have all the hallmarks of Dr. Pym’s design?”  
  
“Because,” Dorrek explained, “Dr. Pym must have also been a Skrull. Perhaps not a sleeper agent, like the Skrull who was impersonating Kate, but he still had Dr. Pym’s knowledge. He incorporated it into Skrull technology and designed something that would affect the genetic mutation that separates the two Earth species.”  
  
Finally, Tony located his webcam and looked at it, almost sounding impressed. _“Exactly. Here, take a look at what Foley found in Miss Lang and Mr. Bradley --_ ”  
  
Stark disappeared from the screen and was replaced with a side-by-side comparison of the nanobot removed from Tom and what seemed like the same nanobot, from a different angle, that must have been found in both Cassie and Eli.  
  
“But we’re sapiens,” Cassie pointed out. “And no one injected us with anything after we were captured. Why would we have nanobots?”  
  
“ _But you both had Mutant Growth Hormone in your systems,_ ” Stark answered.  
  
“Kate and I -- “ Tom began, then backpedaled for a confused moment. “I mean, the fake Kate. Skrull Kate. We found an MGH lab in the house that was a front for the NHR’s human trafficking. I couldn’t figure out why it was there. But if the New Human Resistance is just Skrulls posing as a terrorists to infiltrate us -- ”  
  
“ _Then they’re leaking contaminated MGH onto the streets to target sapiens_ ,” Stark agreed. “ _Same technology, different programming. The nanobots in the MGH don’t suppress mutation, obviously. In sapiens, they suppress genetic viability. Has anyone else seen the study from the World Health Organization about the homo sapien birthrate decline?_ ”  
  
“Wait a second,” Eli demanded. “Are you saying we’re sterile?”  
  
The nanobots on the screen disappeared and Tony Stark was back in frame, looking serious. “ _A lot of sapiens are, Mr. Bradley. Agent Foley should be able to reverse the effects for you and Miss Lang, but this goes way beyond that. This is a worldwide epidemic now, systematically targeting all humans, regardless of their genetic makeup._ ”  
  
Tom shook his head, though not in disagreement. “I don’t get it. This is like the longest con ever. Making sure half of us can’t reproduce and changing the genetic makeup of the other? What’s the end game?”  
  
“If this is the work of who Dorrek thinks it is,” Will interjected, “then it’s the strangest plan of attack I’ve ever seen. And it makes no sense. This Princess Veranke belonged to a religious order that thought the Skrulls were destined to take over Earth after their homeworld was destroyed. Nothing’s happened to the Skrull homeworld -- or any other Skrull world, for that matter.”  
  
“Not to mention that none of this has to do with Wanda!” Pietro finally spoke up. “The Skrull impostor warned us that she was in danger!”  
  
“Well, if there was a Skrull posing as _me_ and I was captured, then there’s probably a Skrull posing as you and another posing as Aunt Lorna,” Tom observed, which did very little to calm Pietro down. Unfortunately for his temperament and agitation where his twin sister was concerned, the SHIELD helicarrier was already at top speed and mere minutes from Genosha.  
  
“ _Either way_ ,” Stark stated sharply, to draw everyone’s attention back to the discussion at hand, _“I’m readying an electromagnetic pulse to take care of the nanobots. The only problem is, I can’t target the specific electric frequency the nanobots use. The whole planet’s gonna go dark when I set this thing off._ ”  
  
“How long will it take to come back online from something like that?” Kate wondered, thinking practically.  
  
“ _Hours. Days. I don’t have the statistical information to make a projected analysis, Miss Bishop. Nothing of this magnitude has ever been attempted. And we can’t let anyone know what’s coming. A general safety order has grounded every plane, but other than that?_ ”  
  
Eli narrowed his eyes. “We just have to hope for the best. Is that what you’re saying?”  
  
“ _Basically._ ”  
  
Tom cringed visibly. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.”  
  
By the time he turned off the live feed from Stark Industries, Tony was already back to work on one of his multiple monitors, waving vaguely in a gesture that was more to end the call through motion activated software than to say goodbye.  
  
“He’s a ray of sunshine,” Johnny commented. “So, what’s the plan of attack?”  
  
“We’re almost to the palace. Once there, we’ll go in with the Red Guard and -- ”  
  
Suddenly, the entire helicarrier was rocked with an explosion so hard the whole room tilted to one side, sliding furniture and toppling people out of their seats. An alert went up, all hands were called, and Director Shaw’s voice came over the communications system in the situation room: “Incoming surface to air!”  
  
“Change of plans!” Tom shouted. “Split up. Half’ll fly with Johnny, the other half can ‘port in with Will. Find the Skrull impostors, protect Wanda and Magnus. Got it?”  
  
As soon as they all agreed, Johnny bolted up and over the toppled furniture, heading for the door. “Come on, Bishop, I’ve got your bow in the jet!”  
  
Eli and Tom scowled and hurried after both Johnny and Kate. Cassie brought up the rear, as if resigned to a role as mediator. Their departure left Will to teleport himself, Dorrek, Pietro, and Lorna into the palace.  
  
Will reached for Dorrek’s hand, his stomach already twisting into knots. “Here goes nothing.”  
  
Between one moment and the next, the four changed locations, moving from the helicarrier situation room to the entrance hall of the palace, but the floor still shook. A distant explosion rocked the building and the hot smell of plasma gunfire was in the air. Pietro darted in one direction and Lorna in the other. Dorrek shifted into a Skrull form, straining but not bursting the SHIELD uniform, and Will brought up a bright blue shield to surround them both.  
  
From all sides, palace guards were engaging each other in an all-out brawl. Half were agents Will recognized, while the other half were Skrulls in palace uniforms.  
  
“Come on,” Will urged, heading toward the reception hall and the sound of intense fighting.  
  
Heralded by the noise of fabric ripping as he shifted wings, Dorrek grabbed Will around the middle and took to the air, soaring over the exchange of gunfire. It wasn’t just plasma guns, Will realized. The Skrulls were firing the sort of weapons they saw in Canada, injecting the palace guards with nanobots to dampen their powers. “Stark better hurry up with that EMP!”  
  
The doors to the reception hall were hanging off their hinges, smoldering with recent plasma fire. Beyond, a firefight had broken out between palace guards and a group of Skrulls trying to push past them into the throne room. Several guards were already on the floor, sporting injection devices in their chests.  
  
Will and Dorrek’s none too subtle arrival garnered them attention from the Skrulls, who turned and opened fire, trying to bring them both down with the power dampening weapons. The injector rounds bounced off Will’s shielding, but the plasma fire tore through it effortlessly and Dorrek was forced to make more swift maneuvers to avoid either of them being hit.  
  
At the end of the reception hall, a gauntlet of palace guards flanked either side of the door to the throne room. “Keep going,” Will urged, phasing them through the doors into the room beyond, while the pursuing Skrulls were brought up short by the guards.  
  
Inside the throne room, Wanda sat on the steps leading up to the grand dais upon which Magnus’ throne was placed, cradling the collapsed king in her arms.  
  
“Mother!” William shouted, breaking into a run for her as soon as his feet hit the ground. Dorrek was not far behind him, but both were brought up short by the sound of breaking glass. Overhead, the skylights cracked under the weight of more then a dozen Skrulls, panes of colored glass falling onto the intricate stonework of the throne room floor.  
  
Soon, they were surrounded on all sides. Dorrek reached for him and Will took a step back into the protective circle of the other man’s arm, the odds of fending off so many attackers looking very _bleak_.  
  
“Do you surrender, Prince William?” demanded one of the Skrulls.  
  
Behind the Skrull leader, Wanda looked up at her son with tears in her eyes and William couldn’t bring himself to answer. In her arms, his grandfather lay slumped, a power dampening round stuck to his chest.  
  
“ _Do you surrender_?” the Skrull demanded again, impatient and fingering the trigger of his gun.  
  
The doors to the throne room burst open and a blur of silver flashed by, leaving the lead Skrull without a weapon. Along the walls, piece by piece, decorative bits of metal ornamentation were ripped from their places and whizzed across the room to strike Skrull targets. From above, arrows began to rain down and in the confusion that followed Will and Dorrek made their moves, lightning strikes and sheer brute force putting huge dents in the already weakened ring of Skrull forces.  
  
A nearby Skrull exploded in a shower of green goop and Will realized Tom had arrived. Without stopping, Will pushed his way past the confusion and up to the throne dais, throwing up a shield around himself, his mother, and his grandfather. “Mother, I’m here. I’ll protect -- ”  
  
Plasma fire burst through Will’s shielding and, to his horror, struck Wanda square in the chest. She gasped in a short, pained breath and looked down at the burn marring her skin. When she looked up, Wanda opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, her expression slackened into something almost serene and her body dissipated into a million tiny points of bright crimson light.  
  
She was gone.


	8. You’re Wrong When I’m Right

Thousands of points of light, millions, scattered like butterflies in a nonexistent breeze. William watched in horror as they dissipated, phasing through the blue energy of his shielding and causing a ripple of disruption, until there was nothing left of Wanda Maximoff and he was exposed. With the battle raging on around him, its participants oblivious, it was up to William to protect Magnus. Alone.  
  
He gathered the fallen king up in his arms and disappeared from the overrun throne room.  
  
High above the throne room, behind doors the Skrull invaders had yet to discover, much less get past, was the northern tower of the palace. William had only ever been in the tower once, playing with Thomas as a child, and it was largely disused. His mother had scolded them both for being gone for hours, running up and down the long spiraling stairs, and the clear memory of that moment now broke his heart.  
  
At the top of the third stairwell, midway up the tower, William sat with his grandfather cradled on his lap, much as his mother had been doing earlier. It was dark and quiet, but by the light of the moon filtering in through the tower’s windows, he could see that Magnus was still breathing. Barely. It might have been a trick of the light or his own intense fears in the wake of what he’d just seen, but William thought the king looked older, much older than he usually did, as if suddenly all the years of his life were weighing down upon him and, with his powers suppressed, he was defenseless against the pressure.  
  
With a shaking hand, William pried the injection mechanism from Magnus’ chest and turned it over. A trio of sharp needles glistened on the underside, matching the three pinpoints of blood on the front of the king’s shirt. William knew from Mr. Stark’s briefing that Pym’s nanobots were now working to rewrite his grandfather’s genetic code, but there was nothing he could do. Concentrate as he might, he just couldn’t visualize the nanobots to remove them. They needed Agent Foley to extract the foreign bodies or Lorna to remove the metal from the king. Until then, Magnus was powerless.  
  
“William,” the king breathed out softly, his eyes open in slits.  
  
“Magnus,” William answered. “I -- ”  
  
Magnus raised a heavy hand and laid it on William’s chest. “You must protect her.”  
  
He squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that welled up at that order and shook his head. “I tried. I-I couldn’t -- I’m sorry.”  
  
Magnus breathed out a slow sigh. It wasn’t sadness, William realized, but belonged to that world weary weight dragging the king down. “Will,” he went on softly, informally. “Whatever you saw, don’t believe it. She’s here. In the tower. _Find her_.”  
  
William looked down at Magnus through watery vision, his cheeks streaked with tears he could no longer contain. “ _Sabba_ ,” he began, but Magnus cut him off.  
  
“Protect her, William,” the king pleaded. “Protect all of us.”  
  
Part of him wanted to argue with his grandfather that she -- his mother -- was dead, that she was vaporized by a Skrull weapon right in front of his eyes, and that there was nothing else he could believe. He closed his eyes against what felt like it must be the truth and replayed that horrible moment again and again in his mind. The energy weapon discharge smelled like ozone, the look of disbelief in his mother’s eye hadn’t been directed at him, the bright red light like the butterflies from his dream.  
  
His dream.  
  
 _That light._  
  
It didn’t seem possible that there would be a connection between this and something he half remembered, something he had likely exaggerated over the years, but it was too much of a coincidence to ignore.  
  
“Yes, grandfather,” William finally answered. He helped Magnus to sit up and lean against the wall beneath the window. “I’ll find her.”  
  
Every door between the throne room and their location in the northern tower locked and barred itself at William's command. He hated the idea of leaving Magnus alone, weakened and without the use of his powers, but if his mother was really here in the tower, she needed him more than the king did at the moment.  
  
William lingered for a brief moment, until Magnus ordered: “ _Go_.”  
  
With a decisive nod, he hovered off the ground and headed up through the stairwell. From the midway point of the tower, there was only one more set of stairs that spiraled all the way to the very top. He had never personally been up this far before, but it didn’t take William long to reach the final landing.  
  
There, at the top of the stairs at the top of the tower, was only a door. The door was heavy oak, beautifully carved and finished, with a handle and lock made of thick metal. It gave William the impression it was rarely opened, yet the door stood ajar just a sliver, letting out the faint orange glow of candlelight.  
  
Hesitantly, Will approached and nudged the door open inches more to get a glimpse at what lay beyond.  
  
To his surprise, it was an impressively decorated room, draped in heavy crimson curtains and appointed with fine furniture. Candles flickered in wall sconces in the spaces between tall bookcases and a forgotten fire burned down to ash in a fireplace along the far wall. It was an impossible room whose inside dimensions did not conform to the outside perimeter of the tower. There was no chimney for the fireplace and certainly no room for the grand set of stairs he glimpsed peeking from behind the heavy fall of one set of curtains..  
  
When William nudged the door open further, the slow swing of the heavy oak revealed his mother sitting peacefully at a small table near the fireplace, the remnants of a tea service littering the table. Across from her, Agent Drew stood with gun drawn, steady aim trained on Wanda’s heart.  
  
“Prince William,” Drew spoke coolly, without taking her eyes off Wanda. “So good of you to finally join us.”  
  
He stepped cautiously inside, as if fearing his realization of the room’s impossibilities would cause it to collapse at any moment, and held up both hands in a placating gesture. “Agent Drew,” William said calmly. “ _Jessica_. What’s going on?”  
  
Drew smiled. It was a sick, twisted smile that sent a chill down William’s spine. “You haven’t figured it out yet. All these years and none of you have realized.”  
  
Without taking her eyes off Wanda, refusing even to blink, Agent Drew slowly faded into someone else. Her skin changed from pale pink to a dark green and she lifted her ridged chin in a just noticeable show of posturing.  
  
“ _You_ ,” William accused.  
  
“ _Me_ ,” answered Veranke. She tightened her grip on the weapon -- not the gun Agent Drew would have carried, but one that fired power-dampening rounds -- and fingered the trigger. “I see _Princess_ Dorrek warned you about me. At least someone hasn’t forgotten my existence. How touching.”  
  
He set his jaw, teeth clenched painfully, to keep from snapping back at the jibe. William knew she was trying to bait him into something with the insult and, as much as he hated the low blow, he knew he couldn’t rise to it. Not with Veranke training a gun of any kind on his mother.  
  
“This isn’t going to work, Veranke,” he said calmly instead, once the flare of anger had passed. “We know about the nanobots. We know they won’t work the same way on sapiens.”  
  
Wanda raised her head from studying the bottom of her teacup. It was so surprising to Veranke that she sucked in a shaky breath and firmed her grip on the gun, ready to fire.  
  
“She’s a _mutant_ ,” Veranke spat.  
  
The word was old, something that hadn’t been used since Nixon’s era, and William’s brow knit in confusion. Wanda Maximoff was the House of Magnus poster child for sapien relations, a sapien who was accepted and beloved by all of Genosha. In his whole life, his mother had never displayed any ability, latent or otherwise. She was a sapien.  
  
“You’re confused,” William said, just as calmly as ever. He didn’t want to provoke her.  
  
Veranke sneered. “ _I’m_ the only person who sees the truth! Your existence is a lie. This whole world, this universe and everything in it, is all her doing!”  
  
Wanda merely blinked serenely, neither confirming nor denying the accusation.  
  
“You’ll unravel me soon enough,” Veranke went on, addressing Wanda directly. “Like all the assassins before me. It’s worse than dying, isn’t it? It’s never existing. Not in this world.”  
  
The next serene blink heralded a change in Wanda, her eyes alight with crimson. She smiled in a way that was almost kind. “I’ll take care of you, Princess Veranke.”  
  
William was frozen in place, suddenly uncertain and, though he hated to admit it, afraid. His mother’s eyes, glowing in a different color as his did went he used his abilities, turned his perception of things on its head. She _wasn’t_ a sapien.  
  
“But not before I take care of you,” Veranke answered. “Tell me, Wanda Maximoff. What will happen to this world if I take away your powers?”  
  
Everything happened at once. The table overturned with the force of Wanda rising from her seat and a shot rang out. Veranke burst apart into a million points of light and Wanda staggered back a step, collapsing to the floor.  
  
William was too slow to react to stop anything, but he still made it to his mother’s side before she crumpled completely. “Mother!” he shouted urgently, prying the injector round from her chest.  
  
Around them, candles began to go out, leaving the room in patches of darkness. As he looked up and around, William couldn’t help but think that Veranke was right, somehow, and that things were slowly fading away as his mother’s powers were dampened.  
  
“What do I do?” he wondered desperately.  
  
Wanda reached up and touched his cheek, smiling weakly. “Take everything I have before it’s gone.”  
  
Her hand was cool against his skin, but the touch filled him with an overwhelming sense of warmth and strength. It poured into him, like the elixir of life into an empty vessel, all the way to the brim and threatening to overflow. There was a glow between them, the meeting of his familiar blue and the alarming scarlet of Wanda’s long hidden power, that kept them illuminated as the rest of the world fell away.  
  
“Don’t let this world die, William. Don’t -- don’t leave me, please.”  
  
Despite the heartfelt entreaties, William was at a loss. He wasn’t sure how to stop what was happening. They were surrounded by a darkness that felt _vast_ , as if it engulfed more than he could fathom. Was everything gone in the blink of an eye? Were they clinging on through sheer force of will alone?  
  
“I don’t know how,” he answered desperately. “Tell me what to do, mother.”  
  
Without understanding what was needed of him, but knowing his mother was the key to that understanding, William focused on her, on _keeping_ her, on staying right here and not falling away into the darkness. He thought about Wanda Maximoff and her calm public face. He thought about his mother and her kind, caring nature, offset from time to time with fierce outbursts. He thought about the little boy crying in the garden and the young man crying in front of his fiance.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Wanda whispered.  
  
William looked down at the woman cradled in his arms. His mother, just kind and caring now. “No,” he insisted. “It’s my fault. I couldn’t stop this and now I can’t fix it.”  
  
Wanda smiled a sad smile. “I created this world for us, William. To be safe, to be free, to live. But I forgot what that meant.”  
  
Now, surrounded by darkness and clinging desperately to what little hope remained, William hardly needed the confirmation that Veranke was right in her accusations, but it was still a shock to his system to her the admission.  
  
“Why?” he wondered. “Why did you make this world? What was the world before it?” Then, in a rush of numb realization, William whispered, “Did I even exist before?”  
  
Her smile faded and Wanda just looked sad. William knew, then, that he had stumbled upon the truth. He knew, then, why she always acted as if he would cease existing if he left her presence, why she was surprised by any sudden appearances of his own volition. He wasn’t real, he hadn’t been real, until his mother created this world for them.  
  
And, much like Princess Veranke, the the idea of ceasing to exist, of having never existed at all, scared the hell out of him.  
  
“Tell me what I have to do, mother,” William demanded, his voice steady and sure.  
  
Wanda closed her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder, cupping his opposite cheek in her cool hand once again. “Concentrate,” she whispered softly, guiding him.  
  
William closed his eyes and breathed out a slow breath.  
  
  


\--

 

The throne room was in disarray. Beyond that, the grand hall was much worse. Red Guard stood victorious next to handcuffed or unconscious Skrulls, waiting for SHIELD prisoner containment and transport. A resounding cheer went up when King Magnus, flanked by his daughter and grandson, descended into the throne room from the northern tower.

While Pietro and Thomas rushed up to greet them, Lorna not far behind, William’s attention wandered, searching for Dorrek in the crowd. He found the Skrull prince not far away, towering over one of the subdued invaders with a distasteful expression on his face. Will pulled away from his family without a second thought to move to him.

Dorrek had barely looked up when Will reached him and pulled him into a passionate kiss, arms grasping on tight for reassurance that Dorrek was real. His entire view of the world and its proportions was skewed now.

Strong arms wound around his waist and Will felt thrown off kilter, just slightly, by the way Dorrek shifted forms while they kissed, shrinking down to his normal size and shape. Once in his base form, Dorrek tightened his grasp on Will and clutched him close, inspiring Will to do much the same.

It was over, finally.

“ _William_ ,” came the voice of his grandfather from behind them, a mixture of disapproval and annoyance. (Which, Will hoped, stemmed mostly from _confusion_.)

Despite the urgency of the king’s unspoken request, Will refused to pull away immediately. When he finally broke the kiss, he just squeezed Dorrek closer in the embrace to murmur against his ear. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

In his own time, at his own pace, the prince finally pulled away from his intended and turned to address his family. Tom was the only one who didn’t look utterly confused. Despite having met Dorrek previously, they had all glossed over the facts with his aunt and uncle.

“Grandfather,” Will addressed Magnus directly, “this is Prince Dorrek. My fiance.”

Magnus narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Where is Princess Anella?”

“This _is_ Princess Anella,” Will answered. He reached for Dorrek’s hand in an effort to reassure both of them, then went on: “I’m sorry. _I_ thought it would be easier if Dorrek appeared as a woman to everyone. I was too afraid to admit to you all something I should have been honest about years ago.”

There was a moment of silence between one admission and the next, during which Dorrek squeezed his hand and, over Magnus’ shoulder, Tom gave him an encouraging nod. Will took a deep breath, then continued: “I’m gay.”

As difficult as it was to maintain eye contact with his grandfather, especially when the suspicious look became something hardened, Will refused to look away. He had lied by omission about who he was long enough.

Before Magnus could respond, Wanda stepped up and pulled both Will and Dorrek into a hug. “As long as you’re happy, William,” she said.

This seemed to inspire his grandfather to relax significantly and, at long last, give an approving nod. “Your mother is right. All that matters is that you are happy.”

For a moment, Will merely looked between his mother and grandfather, hoping that the former had done nothing to sway the feelings of the latter. As much as his happiness hinged on the approval of his family, he wanted that approval to be _real_. He needed it to be real.

When Wanda finally released them both from her embrace and stepped back, Will realized he needed to speak. “I am,” he finally agreed, choosing for the time being to set aside his fears about the world. He glanced sidelong at Dorrek. “Are you?”

Dorrek smiled, exhausted and yet still quite relieved. “I am.”

When Magnus spoke again, his voice was once more that of a hardened ruler, but Will tuned him out. The king spoke about unanswered questions, about an official inquiry into the subversive Skrull regime that had sought to undermine his rule, and how, as a gesture of goodwill toward their new allies, the Skrull invaders would be handed over to their own government for punishment.

Will was too caught up in his own strange mix of emotions to care. Happiness and relief were warring with the worry and fear he was doing his best to ignore. Everything had unraveled perfectly.

He couldn’t help but wonder _how_.

 

\---

 

Following Stark’s electromagnetic pulse, the Earth was blanketed in darkness for nearly twenty-four hours. Although superior and sapien banded together to survive through what the news agencies eventually reported was a result of a freak spacial anomaly passing too close to the planet, it was a rough recovery from an unexpected (by most) natural disaster.

In Genosha, the unseasonably warm weather and damage from the battle made the palace downright uninhabitable without power. When the generators proved insufficient, the royal family conceded defeat and pitched tents, per Tom’s suggestion, in the grand palatial gardens until such time as power was restored. While the king found it an undignified solution to the problem and promptly excused himself to assist in power restoration, the rest of his family was exhausted from their individual ordeals and gladly accepted the reprieve.

“I love Earth,” Dorrek commented from his sleeping bag, smiling up at the sound of rain splattering on the roof of their tent.

Will shifted onto his side and watched Dorrek with a fond smile. “I love that you love Earth.”

Dorrek laughed and looked over at Will, reaching out after a moment of shared glance to link their hands. “I have been wondering something, but I wasn’t sure how to ask.”

“You can ask me anything,” Will assured. He tugged their linked hands closer and pressed a soft kiss to the back of Dorrek’s, not so secretly thrilled to be so freely intimate. It was as intimate as they’d been since that confusing couple of minutes on the helicarrier.

Dorrek’s ears reddened, but he made no attempt to hide his pleased smile. “You told King Magnus it was your idea. That I become Anella.”

“I did,” confirmed Will. “I didn’t want it to seem like you were hiding something from us.” It was a practical lie, really. A practical lie that was a jumping off point for a more important truth. “And I needed to tell them the truth about me.”

“I don’t know what that is, William. _Gay_. My -- translator tells me it means happy. Is that not right?”

Will smiled in an effort not to outright laugh. “Homosexual,” he explained, suspecting Dorrek’s translator would have an accurate definition of that word, at least.

For a moment, Dorrek seemed just as pleasantly confused as he had been, until a look of realization slowly crept over his features. “And your family did not know. You kept it from them. On Earth, is it wrong to be this way?”

“No,” Will answered immediately, his brow knitting with confusion. He wasn’t sure how to explain it in a way that made sense. “People thought it was, a long time ago, but things have changed. People are more accepting. Just -- my grandfather’s generation.”

Dorrek shifted closer, as close as his zipped sleeping bag would allow, and held their joined hands against his chest. “He approved, though.”

“My grandfather remembers a time when people were rounded up by a militant regime and incinerated for their religion or heritage or sexuality. He doesn’t want _that_ , but I think it’s hard for him to accept this kind of difference within his own family.”

“But if you’re happy,” Dorrek pointed out, repeating what both Wanda and Magnus had said not long before.

Will couldn’t help but smile. “But if I’m happy, then he’ll eventually see that there are no differences between any of us. He’ll understand that love and happiness are universal. It doesn’t matter who we feel things for, because inside we all feel the same things.”

After his assertion, silence clung in the warm air between them and Will realized Dorrek was smiling at him again. Dorrek squeezed their joined hands and tilted his head down, resting his cheek against the back of Will’s hand. “Is that why you accepted me as Anella?” Dorrek wondered, his voice soft. “Because there are no differences between any of us?”

Until now, Will hadn’t realized that was the reason. At first, it was duty and obligation that took him to Skrullos and had him mated to a ‘princess.’ But once they got to know one another, there was an undeniable connection. Anella was sweet and kind to him, understanding and infinitely curious, and they suffered similarly with their familial obligations. He was upset when she was gone, not wholly relieved to realize it was a man he felt a connection with, and only put at ease when he realized Anella’s smile and demeanor were reflected in Dorrek’s own.

It was the person he felt that affection for, unchanged by sex or gender or sexuality.

“Yes,” Will answered softly. “The truth didn’t change how I feel about you, Dorrek.”

Dorrek let go of Will’s hand, but only to push himself up and lean over the other prince, close enough to share a breath. “I’m relieved to know that,” he answered seriously, then added with a hint of a flirtatious smile, “And relieved that I don’t have to be a woman when we mate.”

The honesty of the statement caught Will by surprise and he laughed softly, leaning up to press their lips together in a playful kiss. “Yes,” he agreed. “That’s a relief. I, uh, wouldn’t have known what to do.”

Dorrek drew back to scrutinize Will, his smile suddenly a thoughtful frown. “I still don’t know what to do. With a human.”

Considering their previous encounter, though short-lived, seemed intense and headed in a rather satisfying direction for both of them, Will was a little surprised to hear it. “How different can we be?”

“Not very different,” the other prince agreed. He reached up and cupped Will’s cheek in hand, brushing his thumb across Will’s lips.

Will sucked in a soft breath, pursing his lips in a gentle kiss pressed to the pad of Dorrek’s thumb.

“I like the way you kiss me,” Dorrek softly admitted. “I ... liked the way we touched. Before.”

Now would be a much more appropriate time for touching, Will thought. They were more in control of themselves and significantly less likely to be interrupted (though he wouldn’t put it past Tom to try). With a questioning look, Will reached out to unzip the side of Dorrek’s sleeping bag. The move was met with an approving smile and Will followed up by unzipping his own sleeping bag.

Suddenly, they were pressed together in a tangle of sleeping bags with only the thin material of their underwear really separating them. Dorrek’s lips smashed artlessly into Will’s own in a hungry kiss, as Will fumbled through the mess of bedding until he found skin and brought a soft, wanting moan to Dorrek’s lips.

“ _That_ ,” Dorrek clarified in a shaky voice. “Right there.”

Will wasn’t sure if it was personal preference or alien erogenous zone, but he put up no argument running his fingertips lightly down either of Dorrek’s sides again, eliciting a gentle shiver of pleasure from his lover. “Where else?” he breathed out. “Show me.”

Above him, Dorrek blushed furiously at the question, but grabbed Will’s hand to guide it southward. Once they moved past Dorrek’s hip, Will needed no further guidance and gently cupped the growing bulge in Dorrek’s underwear.

A low groan rumbled in Dorrek’s throat like a purr and he dropped his head down onto Will’s shoulder, hips stuttering forward into the light touch.

Will turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to Dorrek’s ear, seemingly hitting on another sensitive spot all on his own given the way Dorrek tensed and whimpered in a soft effort to keep himself quiet. While he was distracted, Will pushed his hand past the waistband of Dorrek’s underpants and gently wrapped his fingers around his lover’s cock.

He might have been anticipating something different, something wholly _alien_ , but Will was surprised to feel few significant differences between them. He found after an experimental stroke that Dorrek had foreskin and his thumb brushed over what he soon realized was a metal bar pierced horizontally through the head of Dorrek's cock. His discovery left them both shuddering and gasping for breath, Will bucking his hips up in a suddenly frantic search for friction.

Perhaps realizing their differences were not too extreme, Dorrek slid his hand between them and provided the friction Will wanted, hand warming the fabric between his palm and Will’s now aching erection.

“Please,” Will begged in a soft whisper. He peeled the underwear from Dorrek’s hips and was relieved when Dorrek followed his example, helping him out of his own boxers. With nothing left to hinder them, Will bucked his hips up, rubbing himself against Dorrek.

It was enough to get them both through another kiss, but eventually Will grabbed for Dorrek’s hand and guided it down to wrap around them both. Suddenly, Will’s search for friction was caught up and concentrated in the firm grasp of Dorrek’s hand and pressed against Dorrek’s own hot length. “Just like that,” he encouraged.

Will pressed frantic little kisses along Dorrek's jaw, just as breathless and shivering as his lover above him. Between one thrust and the next into his own tight grasp, Dorrek tensed and came in hot spurts across Will's stomach. He bit down on his bottom lip to keep the desperate, relieved moan under wraps and the sound alone was enough to push Will over the edge.

Will sank back against the tangle of sleeping bags and Dorrek collapsed against him, both a mess of racing hearts and gasping breaths.

In the long minutes that followed, as the endorphin rush worn off and sleep began to feel inevitable, Will reached up and ran his hand through Dorrek's hair. The gesture was gentle, affectionate.

Dorrek rumbled with an approving sound and Will felt Dorrek press a smile against his neck. "I remember when you were outraged by the idea of mating with me," he teased softly.

"That was a misunderstanding," Will defended with a smile of his own. "Like you wouldn't have been outraged, if you were me."

"Completely," murmured Dorrek. "Even if you were very handsome."

Will laughed softly. “Oh, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Dorrek shifted a little, to keep from pressing Will with all his weight, and let his hand rest warmly on Will’s stomach once he was settled in on one side. He was quiet for so long that Will had begun to drift off to sleep, but eventually asked, “William? ... _Will_?”

“Hm?” Will answered, the noise vague and yet given quickly enough to seem attentive.

Dorrek was smiling again, Will could hear it in his voice. “I feel complete now.”

There was no explanation needed, as Will found himself, strangely, in agreement with the sentiment. Tethered as they may be by stuffy traditions on either of their planets, it was the complete honesty and level of intimacy that brought them _together_ in the ways the treaty called for. It was those things and those things only that made them _mates_.

“So do I.”

 

\--

 

It wasn’t quite morning when the rain and distant thunder stopped, bringing a disconcerting level of silence to the garden. Dorrek slept through it, snoring softly against a lump of sleeping bag, but after several moments spent watching his mate, Will found himself unable to go back to sleep.

Carefully disentangling himself and slipping into his formerly discarded clothes, Will let himself out of the tent. Outside, the short garden grass was damp with the evening’s light spattering of rain, refreshing on bare feet during the unseasonable warmth. He left his shoes just inside the tent and slowly zipped it back up, leaving Dorrek to continue sleeping.

Power loss had cut the ambient noise of the palace, as well as the city beyond, and the silence was almost palpable. He could hear his own soft footsteps through the grass, the skin at the bottoms of his feet sticking wetly to the stones of the garden path once he reached it, and the light drip of water from tree leaves in the distance. It was beautiful and disconcerting all at once.

The absence of sound was how he understood he wasn’t alone, when the silence was interrupted by someone else breathing, someone else moving, and soon enough Will found his mother sitting in the garden’s impressive gazebo, as if to take shelter from the rain that was no longer sprinkling down.

Wanda smiled and opened her arms to him, encouraging Will to climb the gazebo steps and settle onto the bench next to her. She wound her arms around him and coerced him into resting his head on her shoulder.

Together, they enjoyed the silence for several long minutes, Wanda stroking her hand through his hair and Will focusing on the inconsistent rhythm of water dripping from the gazebo roof.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “For not letting you fix this.” The power outage caused by Stark’s electromagnetic pulse. The nanobots still swarming in most of the population. The remnants of an invasion gone wrong. She told him, in softly spoken words, that it could be over in a matter of moments and no one would be any wiser, but he couldn’t bring himself to agree to it. And she, in turn, could not disobey his wishes.

“I understand why you won’t,” Wanda agreed. “You restored my powers when you brought our world back, William, but you brought it back just as flawed and endangered as you remembered it. You aren’t the sort of man to tamper with what feels like the natural order of things.”

He smiled, pleased to be complimented so by his mother. Now that he understood the truth, now that he knew that for most of his life she really _had_ been two people, Will felt astonishingly less fervent about his desire for acceptance from her. She _did_ accept him, she _did_ love him, but it was difficult to express those feelings between two unique facets of her personality. Ultimately, what was wrong about the situation was only that Wanda felt the need to project a second self for her family, not anything Will did himself.

“What was it like before?” he wondered. “The world?”

Wanda paused, if briefly, before answering, “It still exists, William. That world. Ours moves in parallel with it now.”

Without being bid, Wanda extended her arm and waved her hand slowly across his field of vision, parting the veil between worlds before them. William watched as various scenes unfolded, learning the history of their parallel world in flashes. Hitler was never brought to justice, mutants were shunned and hunted, a Skrull invasion led to a supervillain’s rise to power.

It was over in a flash and Wanda sighed. “Do you blame me for wanting something like this?”

Although Will couldn’t blame her, not in the face of what he’d just been shown, he couldn’t bring himself to agree just yet. Instead, he closed his eyes and tried to _think_. “Why don’t I exist there?”

“You did,” Wanda said. Her voice was soft, saddened. “You and Thomas were taken from me, William. I couldn’t bear it. When your uncle suggested I create -- ”

“Pietro knows about this?”

“Yes. And your grandfather has his suspicions.”

Will sat up and pulled away from her embrace to fix his mother with a serious look. “Don’t you see that’s the problem? I’ve known about this for a day and I keep wondering if things are real or if I’ve created them. Is grandfather king of Genosha because he rose to power in a time of great turmoil, or is he king because you want it to be so? And Dorrek -- does he love me, or do I just want him to?”

Wanda frowned, but Will pressed on.

“I can’t live knowing that our world is only what we’ve made it to be, mother. And you, you’ve lived my whole life as two people, the perfect puppet for your family and the real Wanda, hidden away in fear of being discovered. Can’t we just live these lives you’ve given us and be happy?”

Her frown deepened. “I can make you forget what you saw today. You, Pietro, your -- ”

“No,” Will interrupted. He slid from the bench onto his knees in front of her, grasping both his mother’s hands in his own. “Give me the control, mother. I need to know that you’ll have the chance to live a normal life, too.”

“You don’t trust me to make myself forget, too?” Wanda asked, her voice pitched high in offense.

Will shook his head. “No, mother. I don’t.”

Although affronted, initially, Wanda eventually relented and slumped back against the bench. “You’re right not to trust me. I -- wouldn’t be able to do it, William. You have to be the one.”

Wanda smiled a soft, grateful smile and, again, Will felt the warmth of her power being poured into him. A strong breeze kicked up from nowhere, ruffling their hair and his mother’s long robe, the glow of their mutual abilities mixing between them in a bright, brilliant violet.

It was over in an instant and Will got to his feet. “Thank you, mother.”

“No,” Wanda answered, “ _thank you_.”

He smiled and leaned over, pressing a kiss to her forehead. As he did so, he concentrated on what he wanted, what his mother should forget, and only pulled away when he felt the world shift and settle rightly into place, as if a puzzle piece of his soul had been moved and connected to the overall picture.

Will drew back and Wanda looked up at him, blinking.

“Will,” she said, as if he had only just arrived. “I was getting some fresh air. Do you think the power will be restored soon?”

“Very soon, mom,” Will answered. “I’ll walk you back to your tent.”

Wanda got to her feet and linked her arm around his, letting Will walk her back to her temporary bed. Along the way, she fussed at him gently for not wearing shoes and bemoaned all the repairs the palace would need before his wedding.

“Goodnight, mom,” he said with a broad smile, once she had ducked into her tent. He waited until she answered him, then closed the flap, before heading back to his own tent.

Along the way, Will’s attention drifted to his uncle -- then his grandfather -- and finally the world at large, everything slotting into the proper order he wanted it to be. No one would remember this world was Wanda Maximoff’s creation and, soon enough, everything would return to normal. _Their_ normal. They could exist in peaceful parallel with their parent universe.

There was only one piece left to the puzzle.

He crawled back into the tent he was sharing with Dorrek and zipped the flap before settling in amongst the sleeping bags. Spooning up behind Dorrek, amused to be still clothed with such a very naked man in his arms, Will nuzzled in against his shoulder.

“Your feet are wet,” Dorrek complained gently, though there was obvious amusement in his tone. The idea of wet feet seemed quite novel to the sleepy prince.

“Sorry,” Will whispered. Then, after a pause, he added, “Dorrek, I think love you.”

“Yes,” Dorrek murmured. “I know.” There was a longer pause, before Dorrek glanced over his shoulder and pressed a sloppily-aimed kiss to Will’s cheek. “I am falling in love with you, too, William. Now go back to sleep.”

Will laughed softly and tightened his arms around Dorrek, settling comfortably in. By the time the last piece of the puzzle slipped into place, Will couldn’t remember what it was he’d been thinking about and gladly succumbed to the lure of sleep.


	9. Epilogue

“Lift your chin.”  
  
Will did as he was told, watching the ceiling at Tom fiddled with the collar of his uniform. Above them, the morning light had shifted in such a way as to play through the lace netting of the window treatments, casting nonsense paisley shadows, drawn out long, across the far wall and the joint where it met the ceiling. Will focused on the shadows and his brother’s fingers at his throat, carefully adjusting the stiff fabric of his collar, rather than the heavy weight that had settled into his gut.  
  
“Nervous?” Tom asked. Will had long since stopped assuming Tom was psychic and accepted that, from time to time, they just felt exactly the same, either because they were similar in some respects to personality or because one felt something strongly enough to share it across whatever strange, metaphysical bond twins often shared.  
  
He was nervous, coming unraveled at the seams, and Tom was stuck with that feeling, too.  
  
“No,” Will answered, the shift in inflection of his voice registering sarcasm. Huge amounts of it.  
  
Tom huffed out a soft noise (how he managed to laugh at a time like this was beyond Will) and tugged at Will’s epaulets. “Why would you be nervous?” he wondered, playing off the sarcasm and smirking at his own joke. “You’re just going to go in, say a few words, and come out. We’ll have a party, we’ll drink a little, it’ll be great.”  
  
“I’m only going to marry another man in front of the entire world,” Will answered, as if in agreement with the sarcastically casual way Tom presented the facts. “Then attend an intimate party with five hundred of my closest friends.”  
  
“Piece of cake,” the speedster agreed, taking a step back to adjust the way the blue sash was draped across Will’s chest. “Weddings are never about the groom, anyway, and this one has two. Nevermind the fact that it’s the biggest political move the planet has ever seen and the first royal wedding in Genoshan history.”  
  
Will sucked in a huge breath, through his nose, and almost forgot how to exhale. “You’re not helping.”  
  
“But you’re not nervous.”  
  
“ _Now_ I’m nervous!”  
  
A soft knock at the door interrupted their bickering and Tom slapped his hand over Will’s mouth to answer first. “Who is it?”  
  
“Us,” came Kate’s voice from behind the door. “Dorrek wants -- ”  
  
“No!” Tom called back. “It’s bad luck! Go away!”  
  
Will shoved his hand away, then tried to shove Tom himself, but the speedster was already at the door, throwing his shoulder against it to keep Kate from coming in. “He’s already nervous enough without you two jinxing things! Go!”  
  
On the verge of saying something rude, Will just watched -- with his mouth hanging open -- as the door opened anyway and Tom skidded back with it, dress shoes sliding on hardwood and providing little traction or leverage.  
  
Dorrek peeked into the room, just one hand on the doorknob, and smiled broadly. Kate ducked under his arm, careful not to skew her updo, and promptly bullied Tom away from the door with a jab to his exposed side.  
  
While the two of them played at fighting, Will was distracted. Entranced.  
  
“Hey, you,” he greeted, watching as Dorrek stepped into the room and nudged the door closed behind him. Kate, fashion designer (now literally) to the stars, had designed for Dorrek a uniform similar to what the House of Magnus wore and it fit him perfectly.  
  
His jacket was a dark green, rows of buttons down either side, with chartreuse pattern work at the shoulders and cuffs remarkably similar to the scaling Dorrek adopted when he shifted forms. His trousers were a crisp white, striped in green down the outside leg, and he wore boots to the knee. Even now, mere minutes from what Tom aptly described as the biggest political move of the planet, Dorrek wore four silver rings and matching cuff in each ear, looking perfectly flippant with regards to conventionality, while at the same time as polite as can be.  
  
Will felt his heart skip a beat.  
  
“Hello,” Dorrek answered, sounding about as breathless as Will felt.  
  
Kate, meanwhile, grabbed Tom by the arm and dragged him to the door. “Five minutes,” she called cheerfully, clicking her tongue at Tom as she closed the door behind him. Will imagined she would wrangle him into looking presentable again, probably, but was remarkably unconcerned by the time he and Dorrek were alone.  
  
“You look -- amazing,” Will said when he was finally able to speak.  
  
Dorrek ducked his head, the pink tops of his ears giving away his embarrassment, and admitted, “Kate made these pants very tight.”  
  
Whatever nervousness he’d been feeling, dampened under the distracting effects of Dorrek’s appearance, ebbed away to be replaced with something else entirely. Something warm and nice and longer than five minutes. And, when realization struck, something a little green. Will knew exactly what the tabloids would be reporting by this afternoon and what a couple billion people around the world would be looking at and -- okay, well, _that’s_ fine. Really. Because a couple billion people around the world are _just looking_.  
  
“You’re very handsome,” Dorrek supplied when he lifted his gaze again, a smile finding its way to his lips when he no doubt realized Will was still staring. “How do you feel?”  
  
He took another deep breath and remembered how to exhale this time, little of the nervousness returning after Dorrek’s presence helped melt it away. “Good,” Will decided. “Really good.”  
  
“Kate said you would be nervous,” Dorrek noted, taking tentative steps across the room. “But it’s only a formality, William. We have been mated for some time.”  
  
Six months, to be exact. Will may have set the date for a sort of symmetry and sentimentality. He smiled. “I don’t like being in the spotlight like this, that’s all. I liked our cave back on Skrullos.”  
  
Dorrek reached out for Will’s hand, then, and just held it, sweet and simple. “Me, too.”  
  
They must have stood together like that for several minutes. Before Will realized, Kate was knocking at the door again. She peeked up and smiled at them both. “Okay, boys,” she said in an almost placating voice, clearly trying to keep them at ease. “Showtime.”  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
Five hundred guests, though almost a drop in the bucket compared to the actual ceremony attendance, could be a rather stifling crowd. Even for someone like Tom.  
  
He fulfilled his obligations as _Prince Thomas_ and best man, smiling for photos and greeting whomever custom made it requirement to greet, then whiled away most of dinner just _waiting_. Drinks were had and his speech was rather tame, given the mixed company five hundred people made, congratulating his brother and brother-in-law, wishing them happiness, and ultimately lamenting that he would probably have to go to another solar system to find himself a partner _half_ as great as Dorrek. The usual fare. And a crowd pleaser, at that. He completed his toast to resounding applause and, somehow, refrained from slapping Will on the back hard enough to make him lose a little champagne.  
  
Thankfully, his best man duties extended to dancing with what would have been bridesmaids if there had happened to be a bride. In this particular case, there was a best woman. A best woman who just so happened to be _the_ best woman Tom knew: Kate Bishop.  
  
“Feeling better?” Kate wondered as they fell into step together. “You seemed more nervous than Will earlier.”  
  
In heels, they were of a same height and Tom saw laughter in her eyes, the corners of her mouth turned up in playful amusement at his own expense. The tug at his heartstrings that every little move Kate inspired was something he had long since learned to compartmentalize.  
  
“A little,” he agreed. “The hardest part of my job is over. Now if I could just dodge all the rude questions about when _I’m_ going to get married.”  
  
Kate laughed. “When are you going to get married, Tommy?”  
  
It was a joke, of course, but Tom felt he could be honest with Kate. Or, at least, he could give her the answer he had been longing to give all night, free of judgment or repercussion. “I’m not the marrying type.”  
  
“I don’t think that’s true,” Kate countered.  
  
“It is,” he insisted with a laugh of his own. “At least at the moment.”  
  
She looked at him plainly, curiously, for a long moment, then laughed again and settled her head onto his shoulder. Well-studied in the ways of having Kate Bishop as his best friend, Tom hardly even stiffened at such a close proximity anymore. She was casual with him and he wouldn’t do her the disservice of taking it the wrong way.  
  
“I’m still disappointed I missed this bachelor party we supposedly had for Will,” Kate went on after a moment.  
  
“It wasn’t that great,” Tom answered honestly. He knew Kate wasn’t really that disappointed, but that the comment was a segue into what she really wanted to know, what they hadn’t had a chance (or nerve) to talk about since the invasion.  
  
Kate took the answer in stride, let it sit between them for a while, then wondered, “Was she weird?”  
  
She. The Skrull sleeper agent who had been posing as Kate.  
  
Tom suspected Kate already questioned Eli about this. Slow, careful, using all the right words to let him know it was all right. Because it was worse for Eli, wasn’t it? To find out his girlfriend had been replaced by an alien _weeks_ before and he hadn’t even noticed.  
  
“No,” Tom found himself saying. “And yes. The weirdest part was realizing the truth. This uncanny valley between the real, human Kate and this alien who just thought it was you.”  
  
Kate raised her head to look at him, her expression one of confused patience. “She thought she was really me?”  
  
Though he’d long since taken to referring to Skrulls with no definite engendering pronouns unless otherwise indicated, perhaps because he was more sensitive to his brother-in-law’s situation than most would give him credit for, Tom didn’t bother outright correcting Kate.  
  
Maybe if the Skrull in question thought it was Kate, it also thought of itself as female. This wasn’t the first time Tom thought about it, in all honestly, his mind wandering down the path littered with so many unanswered questions. He wondered if the sleeper agent was ever right in the head after the failed invasion. He wondered if they were even still alive.  
  
(Dorrek, helpfully and over breakfast one morning, asserted that his grandfather would likely maroon the surviving army to one of the empire’s prison planets. Tom still wasn’t sure how he felt about that, the whole notion squelching in his gut weirdly.)  
  
“Yeah,” he answered at length. “Even after it wasn’t you anymore, it still -- used your voice. Called me Tommy. Like it couldn’t shake whatever programming they gave it, like it still had you in its head after the big reveal.”  
  
Though she stared, a bit dumbstruck with the revelation, Kate’s feet never stopped moving as they danced.  
  
“That sounds really weird.”  
  
Tom smiled, hunching his shoulders up in a shrug. “Weird is subjective, I guess.”  
  
Her expression relaxed, her smile returned, and briefly Tom thought about telling her the honest to God truth.  
  
 _I love you, too. Another time, another place._  
  
He didn’t claim to understand Skrull sleeper agent programming, but he liked to believe that those emotions belonged to the real Kate. Hearing about them second hand, without Kate’s knowledge or consent, was like a secret that violated the trust they’d built up between them over the years. Holding onto it, refusing to tell her, was just like lying, wasn’t it?  
  
Even as he opened his mouth to speak, a hand landed on his shoulder to pause them as they circled the perimeter of the dance floor.  
  
“Do you mind if I cut in?” Eli asked, prompting Tom to take a step back.  
  
“Not at all,” he answered. It was as if those were the three words his mouth intended to form all along.  
  
Seeing Kate delivered into Eli’s arms, just as a more upbeat song swept the entire dance floor into a whirl of dresses and laughter, Tom stepped further back to watch. They were both so happy together. Kate was radiant with it.  
  
Now definitely wasn’t the time or the place for the truth.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
Outside the ballroom was an enormous entryway of marble and glass, flanked by two grand staircases. Starlight shone in through the intricate skylight above, casting the solemn prince seated on the bottom step in a soft blue light.  
  
Will watched him from the arched entrance leading back into the ballroom and the party he had long since grown weary of, uncertain if he was intruding on Dorrek’s privacy.  
  
But Dorrek just tilted his head, the beginnings of a smile curving his lips, and asked, “Will you watch the stars with me?”  
  
Will stepped across the room to settle onto the step next to his mate. The silence was comfortable and his hand found Dorrek’s own as they sat together.  
  
At long last, Dorrek said, “Even after my time here on Earth, I’m not used to seeing these stars.”  
  
Carefully, Will laced their fingers together and leaned into Dorrek’s shoulder to share the angle of his view. “I don’t know much about astronomy,” he admitted, “but we could make up our own constellations, if you’d like?”  
  
“I’d like that very much, William,” the other prince answered, turning his head to press a soft kiss to the top of Will’s head.  
  
Will smiled.


End file.
